


Engel - A Rammfic AU

by FrauSchneider



Category: Emigrate (Band), Feeling B, Lindemann, Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armed Robbery, Blow Jobs, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Gay Sex, Guns, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Outdoor Sex, References to BDSM, Rentboys, Slow Build, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-04-04 17:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 74,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14024880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrauSchneider/pseuds/FrauSchneider
Summary: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my stories, leave kudos, and comments. It makes the hours of work creating them worthwhile. Just a reminder: as my stories so far have generally concentrated on relationships involving Richard, I’m looking for prompts/ commissions involving other band members and ‘ships’ to challenge me and my brain! I will credit the people who provide any suggestions that become stories. I’m going to have a lot of time to work on stories on my flights to and from Puerto Vallarta next month! *squee!*





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my stories, leave kudos, and comments. It makes the hours of work creating them worthwhile. Just a reminder: as my stories so far have generally concentrated on relationships involving Richard, I’m looking for prompts/ commissions involving other band members and ‘ships’ to challenge me and my brain! I will credit the people who provide any suggestions that become stories. I’m going to have a lot of time to work on stories on my flights to and from Puerto Vallarta next month! *squee!*

“Hello big boy, do you want to party?”

Till stopped in his tracks, convinced that he was hearing things. His friend carried on walking, not noticing that his companion was no longer keeping pace. The owner of the voice that had startled Till moved a few steps closer, his features partially illuminated by the street lamp at the end of the narrow alleyway.

“I can show you a good time, handsome…”

“Zven?”

Till’s friend realised he was on his own and turned around. “Till – what are you doing? Flake’s going to be pissed if you’re late picking him up!”

Till didn’t respond, approaching the young man who’d tried propositioning him instead. “Zven – is that you?”

The shorter man squinted up at him, pupils dilated from who-knows-what substance. “How do you know my name mister? Have we partied together before?”

As Zven took another step forward Till gasped. The last time he’d seen Zven was what, four or five years ago? He’d been a lean, good-looking teenager, full of life with his whole future ahead of him. A world away from the scrawny individual standing before him, blinking under the bright overhead light.

“Don’t you recognise me? Where have you been all this time?”

Till’s companion had walked back to join him. “Till?”

Till turned to his friend. “Schneider, this is Zven. I’ve found him!”

“What? THE Zven? Are you sure?”

Zven had been listening to them talking, eyes widening with realisation. “Till? My Till? I’m home?”

Their conversation had begun to draw attention from shadowy figures further down the alley. Two individuals started walking towards them, an air of menace about them. Schneider reached into his jacket pocket and, making sure he was clearly visible, held up the object for the newcomers to see. “Vice. I’m taking Zven here into police custody for solicitation. I suggest you back off unless you wish to join him in one of our luxury suites!”

Zven tried to bolt, but Till had him in a firm grip, so his struggle was futile. The pimp and his hired muscle melted back out of sight. They had a few workers out on the streets, and being incarcerated would give their ‘employees’ opportunity to break away, or withhold earnings from them. The little jerk the officer was arresting had only recently showed up on their turf, presumably trying the newly ‘liberated’ East Berlin for expanding his customer base.

He’d paid for that mistake – the pimp had him punched up before taking him to their base of operations, restraining him and forcing him to take coke until he was addicted. Then they put him back out on the streets where they could keep an eye on him, forcing him to work for them to pay for the drugs. He’d actually paid them back several times over, but they kept him hooked. But now he was on the police’s radar and could be a liability. They could afford to let the skinny rat go, there were new arrivals to that part of the city every month. He would be easily replaced.

Till and Schneider dragged the protesting Zven, now with handcuffs on his wrists, to Schneider’s car. As it was Schneider’s personal vehicle, rather than one from the motor pool, it lacked the locking mechanism that would prevent prisoners’ escape attempts so Till sat on the backseat as a precaution.

“You can phone Flake from the station to let him know you’ll be late. I’m going to take this waste of space to central booking- ”

“I know he doesn’t look like much right now, I don’t know what the hell’s happened to him since I last saw him, but give me the chance to get him clean. I’m asking you, as a friend, don’t take him in.”

Schneider glanced at Till through the rear view mirror, noting his pleading expression, then flicked his gaze to the younger man next to him, subdued now, eyes downcast. He shook his head.

“This is probably the worst decision I’ll make in my career. Okay, we’ll play it your way. I just hope I don’t live to regret it.”

“You won’t – I promise.”

Schneider turned the key in the ignition, the car roaring to life instantly. As he released the handbrake and eased the car out into the night traffic, Schneider commented, “We better pick up Flake straight away. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say about this.”

 

A short while later, they parked outside a club in the heart of Berlin. The passenger door opened, and a tall, slender man with wire-rim glasses and long, bleached hair bent down to get in the seat. Schneider nodded at him in greeting, before pulling away from the kerbside, concentrating on driving.

“You’re late.” Flake stated, matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault. We bumped into an old friend of mine. Remember me telling you about Zven?”

“The kid who disappeared?”

“Yes, well…this is him. He’s coming home with us tonight.”

Flake turned in his seat for a better look at the man on the seat next to Till, apparently passed out.

“That’s Zven?” He asked, dubiously. “Are you sure, because he doesn’t look like the description you gave me.”

“I’m certain. He’s obviously had a rough time lately, I want to help him out, and find out where he’s been all this time.”

“I’m used to you bringing stray dogs home to look after, but this is the first time you’ve brought a stray human. Same rules – he’s your responsibility, you feed him and make sure he’s clean, and clear up after him if he makes a mess.”

“Thank you, Flake. I owe you one.”

The rest of the trip to Till and Flake’s home was made in silence, everyone lost in their own thoughts. It was as they were getting out of the car, and pulling Zven to his feet, that Flake noticed the handcuffs.

“Care to explain about those?”

“I had to arrest him to get him away from some bad people, so that their suspicions weren’t raised. I better give you the key.” Schneider replied.

“It’s okay, just uncuff him, we won’t be needing them.”

Flake could tell that he’d not heard the full story, but as he was tired and ready for bed, he decided that could wait until morning. He opened the door to the house that he and Till shared, and switched on the entrance hall light, holding the door open so that Schneider and Till could carry Zven inside. The pair carried the young man up the stairs and into a small guest bedroom. They placed him on the bed, before Schneider removed the handcuffs.

“Are you sure you don’t want these? What if he tries anything?”

“Um, we have our own pair of handcuffs and various other restraints. The window is locked, and I can lock the bedroom door too if needs be.”

“I’m not going to ask about that first part. What the two of you do in the privacy of your own home has nothing to do with me. I’ll phone you tomorrow afternoon for an update. Good luck!”

“Thanks, Schneider.”

The tall policeman just nodded and made his way back downstairs where Flake was waiting.

“Call me if Zven becomes too hard for you two to handle. I think Till has got blinkers on because that’s his old friend, he means well but…”

“But his ‘friend’ is probably not the same person that Till remembers? I’ll keep my eyes open. Is there anything I should know? You said you had to get him away from ‘bad people’?”

“I was going to book him, but Till asked me not to, as a favour. As it’s my night off, I didn’t really want to go to the station and file all the paperwork, so… I’m giving Till the chance to sort him out. If you want to know more, you should ask your boyfriend. Goodnight, Flake.”

“See you at rehearsals.”

Schneider waved a hand in acknowledgment, as he walked back to his car, and set off for home. Flake shut and locked the front door, before climbing the stairs in search of Till. He found him in the guest room, handcuffing Zven to the bed’s headboard. There were a couple of buckets by the bed, which didn’t require a genius to guess their purpose.

“Need any help before I go to bed?”

Till turned to face Flake.

“Yes. Could you fill a jug with water and fetch a glass, please? Zven needs to go through ‘cold turkey’ and will need to drink lots of water. Could you look for spare blankets too? I need to get him out of these clothes and find something clean for him to wear.”

“Great. You’ve brought a junkie home. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. I’ll get the water and blankets for you, but then you’re on your own where he’s concerned.”

Flake disappeared from view and set about his tasks. Till busied himself in their bedroom, finding some comfortable old clothes to give to Zven, placing them in the chest of drawers in the guest room ready for when they were needed. Next, he took off the tops that Zven was wearing, removing one arm from the sleeves, pulling the clothes up over his friend’s head, and down the other arm to the handcuffs. He unlocked the cuffs, quickly tugged the clothing the rest of the way off the second arm, before securing the cuffs again.

He removed Zven’s scruffy trainers and socks, then unfastened the younger man’s belt, and undid the zip on the jeans it had been holding in place. He pulled the jeans off and cast them aside, then pulled the duvet over Zven’s body. Till was mortified by how much weight Zven had lost, he was practically a skeleton. From the looks of things, his friend would probably have died if he’d been on the streets much longer. He heard a sharp intake of breath behind him.

“Perhaps he should be called Flake instead of me.”

Till managed a thin smile as he accepted the blankets and water from his lover.

“I’m hoping it won’t come to that. Once he’s sober again, I’m going to get him back up to a healthy weight. Thanks for being so understanding, love.”

“I’ve not decided if you can keep him yet. We’ll see how things go. I take it you’ll be staying in here with him ready for when he wakes up?”

Till nodded.

“I’m going to turn in then. Good night Tillchen.”

He gave Till an affectionate kiss on the cheek, then left the room, stifling a yawn. Till closed the guest room door, determined not to wake Flake whatever happened during the night.


	2. Revelations

It wasn’t long before the symptoms of cocaine withdrawal began to manifest. When conscious Zven was highly agitated and restless, constantly trying to alter his position on the mattress – made difficult due to his being handcuffed to the rails of the bed’s headboard. Then, when he was asleep, he was apparently plagued by terrible nightmares, waking himself up with screaming and shouting.

During it all, Till kept him company – Till phoned work to say he was ill, and wouldn’t be in for a few days - making sure Zven drank plenty of fluids, and providing him with food every so often. He knew that the full withdrawal process was likely to last several days – Till worked as an orderly at the local hospital and had seen several patients going through medical-assisted withdrawal, so was aware of what to expect. It didn’t make it any easier though when it was his best friend that was suffering.

Schneider dropped in on the third day, when Zven was having a particularly low point.

“Please…kill me…I don’t want to carry on like this….”

“You don’t really mean that Zven…you’ll feel better soon, trust me…”

Zven whined, and curled up into a tighter ball on the bed. Till looked up as Schneider walked into the room, his eyes full of unshed tears. 

“How’s he doing?”

“Not great, truth be told. Today’s his worst so far, but he should start improving soon. Any luck trying to find any information on where he’s been?”

“I managed to find the initial missing person report that his stepfather filed. But there were no updates filed after that. So, I tried going backwards, one of our informants told us that the pimp Zven was working for is a classy guy by the name of Bruno, who takes kids off the streets, gets them high on coke and then spits them back out again to earn their keep. Word is that Zven showed up shortly after the Wall fell, so I think it’s safe to assume that he was in the West up to a few months ago. It might take some time to fill in the gaps, integrating both police forces and gaining information from the other side is proving… problematic.”

Zven groaned and shifted position again. 

“I suppose we could try another method.” Schneider said, looking over at the young man writhing about on the bed.  
“What do you have in mind?” Till asked, as Schneider crouched down at the bedside.

“This… Hey, Zven… I need to ask you a couple of questions…Is that okay with you?”

The younger man gritted his teeth, apparently in some discomfort, but managed to nod.

“You were on your way to meet Till a few years ago, but you never arrived. What happened?”

“Arrested…” Zven managed to get out, between groans. 

Schneider’s brow furrowed, there’d been no other reports with Zven’s name on posted by the local police.

“Who arrested you, Scholle?” Till asked, using his friend’s old nickname.

Zven’s one word response sent a chill down both their spines.

“Stasi.”

 

The two of them looked at each other, both with horrified expressions on their faces. Till spoke first, not sure if he heard correctly.

“Did he just say…”

“…Stasi.” Schneider finished for him. “That would explain why it’s not in the local police records. Any idea why they might have taken him in?”

“None. What I can’t understand is why his stepdad didn’t cancel the missing persons report. Surely the first place Zven would’ve gone after his release would’ve been home? And if he’d gone home, why didn’t they tell me he was ok? None of this makes sense!”

“How were things back home?”

“Not great, from what he told me, he and his stepfather argued all the time, but he was close to his mum. He wouldn’t just leave her without a word unless he didn’t have a choice.”

“I’ll see if I can dig anything else up. I’ll call you if I get something. Will you be joining Flake at our rehearsals tomorrow?”

“No, I need to stay with Zven. Can’t run the risk of someone from work spotting me out when I’m supposed to be sick, anyway.”

“Are you getting any sleep?”

“Flake makes sure I get a few hours before he goes to the club. It’s not perfect, but it’s just for a few days. I need to think of what we’ll do when I have to go back to work.”

“Speaking of work, I better get going. If you get any more information from Zven, let me know, I’ll add it to what we know.”

Till nodded, and turned his attention back to the young man on the bed, who’d lapsed back into a fitful sleep. Before his disappearance, Zven had been one of the most positive people he knew, despite not having a great home life. He’d often been the centre of attention, especially after his mum had bought him a guitar on a trip to Prague, girls flocked around him when he played. So to hear him begging for death was heartbreaking, Till knew that it was probably down to the withdrawal process, but that didn’t make it any easier.

He just hoped that once Zven was clean some semblance of the boy he used to know remained. Till could only guess at what had changed the younger man into this pitiful being occupying the spare bed. He decided he’d try to get Zven to give him more information about the missing years once he started showing signs of improvement. 

Flake appeared at the door, fresh from the shower.

“Did Schneider have any news?”

Till gave his lover a brief summary, Flake having the same reaction to the mention of Stasi involvement around the time of Zven’s disappearance. He hadn’t been feeling too sympathetic to the young man’s condition, especially with it being the reason for Flake and Till not spending time together over the last few days – not just in bed, but in general – but he resolved to not view Zven too harshly before getting all the facts.

“It’s my turn to watch over him, you need to get your head down for a bit. I’ll bring you a coffee when I wake you before I go.”

Till stood up and stretched his impressive frame, knowing that Flake would be picturing in his mind what he’d like to do with Till’s body once he got the opportunity again. When he looked at his boyfriend, he saw a wistful expression on the other’s face. Till smiled knowingly.

“You’ll be able to molest me soon enough. We could always ask one of the others to look after Zven so we can have a night out.”

The two shared a brief but loving kiss before Till made his way to the master bedroom, hoping that he’d get a couple of hours of sleep, but knowing that his head had too many unanswered questions for that to be likely, not without sleeping tablets at any rate, but he’d rather not go that route. 

Flake took Till’s place in the comfy chair near the bed, and picked up the novel he’d left on the nightstand following his previous stint. He opened the book to the page he’d bookmarked and, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, soon lost himself in a tale of intrigue and mystery. He became so absorbed in the tale that he almost forgot there was another person in the room. Zven had been sleeping peacefully when Flake had taken over from Till, and had barely stirred at all during the couple of hours or so that Flake had been sitting next to him, so Flake was given quite a start when Zven started speaking, quiet as he was.

“Could I have some water?”

Flake took a calming breath and set his book aside in order to reach for the jug of water. He poured a small amount into the plastic mug they’d put on the nightstand – they had decided against using a glass in case Zven smashed it, to use against them or to harm himself – and passed the mug over to the younger man.

Zven tried to prop himself up a bit so that he wouldn’t spill the mug’s contents, and swallowed the water down eagerly. Flake refilled it for him, then placed the mug back on the nightstand once Zven had finished with it. The young man managed a small smile of gratitude.

“Thank you…I’m sorry – I don’t know your name?”

“I’m Flake.”

“And you’re Till’s … boyfriend?”

“That’s correct. And you’re the legendary Zven….”

The ‘legendary’ Zven giggled at that, which Flake found quite endearing.

“I’m not feeling very legendary at the moment. Quite the opposite. What has Till been saying about me?”

“Actually, he hasn’t said much about you, only that you were his best friend who apparently vanished without trace one day on your way to meet up with him. There have been a number of theories about what happened to you, I guess now you can fill in the blanks… when you’re feeling up to it. Are you feeling hungry?”

“A little bit. But what I really need is a…”

“Ah, right. I can leave while you use the bucket.”

“I’d prefer to go to the bathroom, if you don’t mind…” Zven could see the dubious expression on Flake’s face, “…I’m not in any condition to try running away or picking a fight with you – in fact, I’ll probably need to hold on to you for support while walking.”

Flake gave it a moment’s thought, then unlocked the cuff restraining Zven to the bed, before helping him to stand up. Zven grabbed onto one of Flake’s arms to stabilise himself, until he’d got his balance, then took a hesitant step forward.  
“Okay, lead the way.”

 

Personal hygiene taken care of, Zven let Flake lead him back to the bedroom. Once the younger man was settled back on the bed, Flake went downstairs to the kitchen to fix them both a snack. He was relieved to find that Zven hadn’t moved during his absence, as he’d not been certain whether the weakness was feigned or not.

Zven smiled when Flake returned with a couple of sandwiches for him, and tucked in, apparently feeling hungry all of a sudden. After he’d taken a few bites, Zven took up their conversation again.

“So, how long have you and Till been together?”

“A little over three years. We only moved in together last year though.”

“How did you meet?”

“He knew Schneider – our drummer- and came to one of our gigs, and we got talking at the bar afterwards. For such a large man, he was very shy, which I thought was really cute. I just had to get to know him. It took some time, but eventually he agreed to go out on a date with me. We’ve never looked back.”

Zven smiled. “Yeah, he always the strong, silent type. I remember that girls liked to flock round him – they had no idea that they never had a chance with him, I usually ended up telling them that he was in a committed relationship so that they’d leave him alone, he was always embarrassed about the attention they gave him.”

“Did you and Till have a thing, then?” Flake asked, finally able to discover more about his boyfriend from someone who knew him when he was younger.

“What? No! I’m straight! At least, I was… I’m not sure how I’d describe myself now, other than confused. If you’re concerned that I might try to steal Till away from you, you needn’t worry. He’s basically my big brother, it would be wrong on so many levels!”

“Okay. I guess that’s one less thing for me to worry about. Did Till have any boyfriends back when you knew him?”

“I think he had a couple of boyfriends – not at the same time – but I don’t think either relationship was serious. He didn’t really give me any details, and I don’t know how far he went with them, it wasn’t something he felt altogether comfortable talking about. I’m glad he’s found someone he can be happy with, although, I must admit, if I had been asked what type of person he’d end up with, I’m not sure I would have picked you out of a selection!”

“Why not?”

“Because Till’s always been conscious of his size, he’s always been worried about accidentally hurting someone, so he’d always gone for men with athletic builds. And you’re…er…”

“Skinny? Till knows I’m stronger than I look, but it did take a while to convince him that he wouldn’t snap me in two if he touched me!” Flake paused, noticing how tired Zven looked. “If you’re done with your food, I’ll clear the plates away. We can talk again later, try and get some rest.”

Zven handed his empty dish back to Flake, and started to settle back down, before noticing something. “Uh…do you need to put the cuffs back on me?”

“No. I’m going to trust you. I’ll be back in a few minutes once I’ve washed these. I’ve got a book to finish before work.”

Zven thanked Flake, and promised not to betray his trust. Turning over, he pulled the covers up to his chin and nestled back down to sleep.

When Flake finally retook his seat in the chair, Zven was snoring softly. Other than a brief spell where he muttered incoherently in his sleep before turning over, the young man didn’t stir for the rest of the afternoon. Flake finished his novel and set it aside, before heading to the kitchen to make a coffee for Till. 

Having woken the larger man with the drink’s heavenly scent, Flake filled him in on the conversation he’d had with their houseguest. Till was glad that the two had tried to get to know each other, and hoped that their efforts would continue. He desperately wanted to help Zven get back on his own two feet, but knew it would be difficult without his boyfriend’s support.


	3. Feeling B

At band rehearsal the following evening, Schneider tried to surreptitiously ask Flake about Zven’s condition, but their guitarist, Paul, had an incredible ability to turn up at the most inopportune moments, and so overheard their conversation. 

“What’s this? Who’s Zven? Why’s he staying with you? When do we get to meet him? Wh…”

“Paul…This was meant to be a private conversation!” Schneider growled in exasperation. 

“There’s only Ollie and myself here, and we won’t tell anyone, will we Ollie?”

“Won’t tell anyone what?” Ollie asked, puzzled, not having heard any of the conversation.

“Exactly!” Paul replied, confusing Ollie further.

Paul turned back to the other two men. “Well?”

Flake sighed, “I suppose if we don’t tell him he’ll just pester us to death.”

Schneider nodded. “Paul’s incessant chatter could be used as an interrogation technique, only it would be deemed too cruel on the prisoners.”

“Hey! I have feelings you know!” Paul protested, grinning all the same.

Believing that they didn’t have any real alternative, Flake and Schneider told their two bandmates about the events of the past few days, but left out any mention of the Stasi, instead saying that following a series of unfortunate events Zven had fallen on hard times, and would no doubt need to get a job when he had recovered somewhat. While Flake believed Zven when he said he’d have no intention of stealing Till away, romantically speaking, his mere presence was having an effect on their relationship.

He didn’t really blame Zven or Till for that, but the sooner Zven moved into somewhere else to live, the happier he would be.

“…and apparently he used to play the guitar…” Schneider was telling the others, while Flake was ruminating.

“Really? Cool! Maybe he and I could jam sometime. Hey – I’ve got an idea – why don’t you bring him to the gig this weekend? He could keep Till company while we’re performing and then we could all have a drink and a chat!”

“Well, I’ll suggest it to them when I get home. I’m not sure if he’ll be feeling well enough, but I’ll ask.”

 

Zven was a little nervous about going out to the club, even though his best friend was accompanying him. Flake had told them both about the unintentional conversation about him with his bandmates, and their response. All the same, Zven was certain that he’d feel left out when the others joined Till and himself after their set.

Entering the club, their noses were assaulted with the smells of stale beer and sweat, and their eyes took a moment to adjust to the low pre-show lighting. Till guided Zven to a cordoned-off booth near the back of the club, close to the small stage, and a short distance to the bar. It had been set aside for the band, but as Till was known to be friends with them, no-one stopped him or his guest from skirting the barrier and taking up seats there.

Flake walked on to the stage to do a quick check of his equipment, and, noticing the pair, gave a small wave in greeting. When he was certain that Zven was feeling comfortable, Till went to grab them a beer each, before settling back down next to him, just in time for the band’s first set. 

“Good evening Berlin! We’re ‘Feeling B’ and this is ‘Mix mir einen Drink’ from our first album.”

What followed was thirty minutes of the most energetic, raucous punk rock that Zven had ever heard in his life. Zven found himself watching the guitarist more than the other band members, eyes following the man’s fingers as they formed chords, reawakening memories of having done the same years earlier. He found himself wanting to pick up the spare guitar at the side of the stage to have a strum himself, to see if he could still play. He’d found that girls flocked around him when he played his acoustic in the small town he grew up in, before they were uprooted to move in with his mum’s new husband in Berlin. He let out a sigh.

“Are you okay Zven?” Till asked, noticing.

“Yeah, just remembering when we used to play. Those were good times.”

“You can still have good times. Paul said he’d like to jam with you sometime, when you’re feeling better.”

“I’d like that.”

The band finished their first set and disappeared into a side room which served as the dressing room, but there was little space for them to relax in, as they shared the room with various tables, chairs, and stools stacked up to the ceiling. Till went to fetch another drink for Zven and himself, and paid a round on for the five members of the band, ready for when they finished their second set. It took a little while to get served as seemingly everyone else in the bar had decided to order another round at the same time, so Till only just made it back to the booth before ‘Feeling B’ started hammering out the opening chords of the first song of the set.

Zven nursed his drink, not wanting to knock it back too fast as it had been a long time since he last had alcohol, and the pint he’d already had, combined with the music, had started his head buzzing. Instead he concentrated on the band, allowing himself to relax a little and enjoy the atmosphere. He really enjoyed an instrumental the band played, which he later discovered was called ‘Space Race’, it was more melodic than most of the other songs, and gave an insight to the band’s potential, assuming they wanted to go beyond the club circuit.

Eventually the set came to an end, and the four men disappeared into the makeshift dressing room once more. They emerged a short time later with fresh t-shirts on and piled into the booth, all smelling of a combination of sweat and anti-perspirant. Flake shuffled up next to Till, who greeted him with an affectionate kiss. 

Paul took the seat opposite Zven eager to get to know the mysterious newcomer, Schneider, then Ollie, slid in next to him, with Aljosha – the band’s fifth member – taking his place at the edge of the booth’s bench. Zven found that he liked the short man on the other side of the table from him. He was amazed that the energy he’d poured out on stage was still very much in evidence after their performance had finished, Paul chattering animatedly, enthusing about various bands, some of whom he had enjoyed listening to back when he was still living with his mother and step-father.

Zven glanced over towards the man seated next to Paul, frowning slightly. He had a feeling he knew him from somewhere, but couldn’t quite remember where. Schneider returned his gaze coolly, sipping his beer quietly as he came down from the adrenaline rush that performing brought. Aljosha didn’t hang around long enough to chat, a group of girls who were apparently enamoured with him managed to persuade him to join them at their table, all of them laughing and giggling. The others didn’t bat an eyelid at his departure, apparently it was a common occurrence.

“So, how long are you staying with Till and Flake?” Paul asked Zven.

“Um, I’m not exactly sure. I guess I need to find a job so that I can rent somewhere. But I can’t get a job without my ID card, and I’ve not exactly got anyone I can ask for references.”

“Well, if it helps, you can stay with me while you find something more permanent. I’ve been on my own since my divorce, so it would be nice to have some company for a while.”

“That’s really kind of you, but we’ve only just met. Are you sure about this? I don’t have any way to pay board, not yet anyway…”

“Till and I can lend you some cash until you get a job, and I’m sure that Schneider will be able to help you get a replacement ID card, right, Schneider?”

The drummer grunted noncommittally, earning him a poke in the ribs from Paul.

“Come on, Doom, it’ll be easy enough for you to check Zven’s information and get him a new card.”

“Fine, if it will shut you up. I guess I can swing by tomorrow to pick Zven up and get his photo taken. I’ll grab the necessary forms on my way back from work, and we can go over them at some point over the weekend.”

Paul grinned, triumphant.

“Now all we need to do is to find out if there are any suitable jobs going. So, what have you been doing to earn cash recently? What are you good at?”

Zven was glad of the low lighting in the club, as his cheeks were burning crimson at those questions. He was still thinking of how best to answer that when Till replied for him.

“We don’t need to go over that now, can’t we just have our drinks and enjoy ourselves?”

Paul pulled a face. “I’m just trying to help!”

“You can do ‘twenty questions’ if and when Zven moves in with you. We don’t need to rush things…and anyway, you ought to hang out together first to see if you get along before making plans for moving in!”

“Okay, are you free tomorrow Zven?”

The younger man glanced back to Schneider before replying. “Yes, that is, I am when Schneider has finished helping me with my ID card…”

Schneider put down his beer glass. “As we’ve all had a pretty late night tonight I’ll not turn up too early. How about 11am?”

Zven nodded. “I’ll be ready, thank you…both of you…”

“You’re welcome!” Paul enthused. “Schneider knows where I live – he can drop you round at mine when he’s done with you.”

Plans for the following day having been agreed, the six of them settled into relaxed banter while they finished their drinks. The four remaining band members, suitably refreshed, got up once they’d emptied their glasses in order to dismantle the drum kit and put all their instruments away. Meanwhile, Till noticed that the alcohol was having a significant effect on Zven, and declared that he was tired and so he and Zven would head home immediately.


	4. Fear and Friendship

There was a buzz as someone rang the doorbell. Till looked up from the book he was reading and looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.

“That’s probably Schneider. I’ll go fetch Zven. Can you let him in?”

Flake nodded, putting down his mug of tea on the coffee table at the centre of the living room, before heading in the direction of the front door, while Till headed in the opposite direction, up the stairs.

“Come in, Schneider,” Flake said in greeting, “Till’s just fetching Zven, come in for a minute. It’s cold out.”

He stood to one side to let their friend into the warmth of the house. Schneider walked into the living room and stood with his hands outstretched towards the fire, burning merrily away on the hearth. Although it was late March, spring seemed reluctant to make an appearance, and there was a biting wind blowing in from the Arctic, making it feel colder still.

Flake offered to make him a hot drink while he waited, which Schneider politely declined, not wanting to interrupt the day’s activities with needing a toilet break. The main reason behind his thinking was that until Zven was proven not to be a flight risk he didn’t want to let him out of his sight, even for a couple of minutes.

He turned at the sound of two sets of footsteps on the staircase. Till entered the living room with Zven in tow. Now that Schneider could see him in natural light, he was able to get a better look at the young man. Still painfully thin, he looked like a scarecrow in one of Flake’s old sweatshirts . He was wearing his own jeans as Flake’s were too long, and Till’s too wide even with a belt to hold them in place.

Zven’s cheekbones were prominent, the cheeks themselves hollow. His eyes, now no longer glazed from the drugs, were a startling bright blue that rivalled his own. He wore small hoop earrings – one in each ear – and his head was crowned with bleached-blonde hair cut very short.

Till handed some money to Schneider along with a short list. “If you have time, can you take Zven to buy some new clothes for himself? Hand-me-downs are fine while he’s at home, but he will need some that fit properly when he goes out.”

“Sure. I’ve already called ahead to a couple of places we’re going to, to let them know when we’re arriving, so that should help save time. Are you ready to go, Zven?”

The young man nodded, pulling on the jacket that Flake was handing to him.

“Okay then, let’s get this over with so that I can hand you over to Paul.”

He gave both Till and Flake a quick handshake, then motioned to Zven to lead the way to the front door.

 

“Did you have breakfast?”

“Yes.” Zven answered quietly, eyes glued firmly on the road ahead.

“Good. We can get straight to business then. The identity application is in my desk drawer at work. I was running late so I decided to pick you up first and then return to work to retrieve the papers, and get your photo taken at the same time.”

Zven only nodded his acknowledgment, still unsure about his new companion. Schneider glanced at him before returning his attention to his driving.

“Maybe we should get those new clothes for you first, that sweater definitely doesn’t look right on you. I know a good place to try first.”

His mind apparently made up, Schneider wound his way through the late morning traffic, eventually parking the car at a small shopping mall. They got out of the car, and Schneider guided Zven by the elbow into a shop with a wall full of denim, racks of t-shirts with various band logos on them, leather jackets and more. Zven immediately started browsing through the t-shirts, delighted to discover that a lot of bands he’d discovered while in the West were now filtering through to the East. 

Zven picked out a couple he liked – the Ramones and Kiss – then had a thought, and looked at the price tags. He frowned and looked up at Schneider.

“Uh…how much am I allowed to spend?”

“Don’t worry, there’s more than enough for you to have both of those. You need another pair of jeans, what size do you wear?”

They spent the next quarter hour or so choosing a pair of jeans, a jacket and some shoes. Purchases paid for, Schneider took Zven to a market stall to pick up a few inexpensive pairs of socks and some underwear. 

“Are you feeling hungry yet? We could go grab a burger or something before we get the papers you need.”

“Yessir. If that’s okay with you.”

Schneider laughed, much to Zven’s confusion.

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir’ – save that for my dad or my boss. From what Till tells me, despite current appearances, you’re not much younger than me. ‘Schneider’ is fine, or ‘Doom’”

They had arrived at the fast food restaurant, and stepped inside. Zven’s stomach growled in response to the smells emanating from the kitchen area, making Schneider smile.

“I guess you are hungry. Order what you want, you could do with putting some meat on your bones, you’re far too thin to be healthy.”

Zven found it impossible to make a choice, he wanted to taste everything on offer, not having had much of anything to eat before Till had found him. Schneider ended up ordering for them both, and ushered the younger man into a vacant booth so they could eat their meal. The officer took the opportunity to ask a few more questions under the auspices of casual conversation.

“I don’t know if you remember, but while you were going through withdrawal you mentioned about being arrested on your way to see Till. What happened that day?”

Zven’s eyes seem to focus on a distant point, the young man apparently lost in thought while he chewed on his burger. After swallowing his current mouthful he turned his gaze back to Schneider. Taking a deep breath, he filled in some of the details.

“I remember asking my stepdad if I could borrow the car to go see Till, but he refused me. He told me he had some business meeting or other on the opposite side of the city and would need the car all day. I asked if he could give me a lift instead, but he insisted that any deviation from his planned schedule would make him late. He gave me a few marks and told me to take the U-bahn. So, I set off allowing plenty of time in case there were any delays on the line. When I got out of the station at the other end, there was a large protest happening right outside. There were hundreds of people marching, so I tried to weave my way through the crowd to cross to the other side. I guess they were protesting against the government, as all of a sudden dozens of officers showered up and started arresting everyone in sight, including me. I tried telling them that I had nothing to do with the protest, I showed them my ticket from the train, but they wouldn’t listen and I was hauled away in the van with the real demonstrators.”

The young man went quiet and took to eating the rest of his meal before it went cold. Schneider had remained silent while Zven talked, and nodded in understanding at the end. It certainly wasn’t unheard of for innocent people to get arrested by mistake. It sounded like the kid was unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Schneider wiped his face and hands when he finished his own meal and reached for the coffee he’d ordered. Emptying a couple of packets of sugar into the hot liquid, he pressed Zven for more information as he stirred it in.

“How long did they hold you until they realised they’d made a mistake? Did your mum or stepdad not come to bail you out? I assume they were contacted once the officers processed you?”

Zven looked down at the remnants of his lunch on the tray, fidgeting with the plastic wrapper that the straw for his soft drink had been served in. It took him a minute to decide just how much he was willing to tell this man who, despite being an obviously close friend of Till and Flake, was still very much a stranger to him.

“I’m not sure when they may have phoned home, or even if they did at all. They released me after three full days and nights, and I had to make my own way home.”

When it looked like the other man was going to ask more questions, Zven quickly jumped in. 

“Look, if you don’t mind, I don’t really know you and I’m not comfortable talking about all this. I’ve not even told Till what I’ve just told you. I’d rather not discuss it any more, certainly not here at any rate. I don’t know who might be listening.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’ll not ask you anything more about it. If you’re finished, we can swing by my workplace to grab the papers and get your photo taken, then I’ll drop you off at Paul’s as promised. Okay?”

Zven put the straw wrapper, now containing a few knots along its length, down onto the tray. He brushed off the crumbs that had fallen onto his lap, then shuffled along the seat to the edge so that he could stand up. Schneider followed suit, and showed Zven where to dispose of the rubbish and deposit the tray. 

They returned to the car and within minutes were turning onto the street which was home to Schneider’s station house. As they drew closer to the building Zven became more and more agitated, he tried the door handle to jump out but the safety lock was on. He turned a panicked face to Schneider who was in the process of parking the car.

“You promised you were going to help me and take me to Paul’s! Why would you do that? You lied to me!”

He’d unfastened the seatbelt by this time and scrambled over the top of his seat into the rear of the vehicle and tried desperately to open both the rear doors to no avail.

“Zven…Zven…ZVEN!!! Calm down! I didn’t lie to you, and I’m not arresting you again, we’re only here to get the necessary paperwork for your ID card, and to take your photo. I’ll take you straight to Paul’s after.”

The younger man stopped rattling the door handles and banging against the windows – actions which had only attracted the most minor of attention from passers-by, used to seeing prisoners trying to evade justice – and sandwiched himself between the front seat he’d previously occupied and the backseat, wanting to make it as difficult as possible for Schneider to get him out of the car.

Schneider only had to take one look at the terror etched on Zven’s face to realise that whatever the young man had omitted from his story earlier had obviously left him severely scarred mentally. He’d wedged himself in tight on the car’s floor and was visibly shaking.

“I’m sorry Zven, I had no idea how bringing you here would affect you. I swear to you that I’ve no intention of taking you in. Listen, I’m going to go inside and get the papers and come right back out again. We can leave the photo for another day – you’re obviously in no fit state to pose, so we’ll wait until you’ve filled out a little and had chance to calm down again. I’ll have to locate a photo booth instead, as using the camera here is evidently not an option.”

He was speaking in calm, measured tones so as not to agitate the younger man further. He’d found that giving scared or angry people a blow by blow account of what he was going to do, and what he expected of them, was one of the best ways to diffuse situations. 

“I’m going to get out of the car, and lock it with you inside so no-one else can get to you. Cover yourself with that blanket back there if you want to stay out of sight. I’ll be no more than five to ten minutes – I have to go up a couple of floors to get to my desk. When I get back, I’ll need you to get back in the front seat and buckle yourself in again for safety. We’ll take the shortest possible route to Paul’s and get you something to drink to help you relax again. Does that sound okay to you?”

Zven lifted his head a fraction and whispered, “Yes sir,” before dipping his head back down again, burying his face in his arms.

Schneider studied him for a moment, then announced that the ten minutes will start the moment he locked the car door on exit. He saw Zven moving his watch on his wrist ready to begin the countdown, and one thin arm snaking out to grab the blanket. The policeman nodded to himself, satisfied that Zven had been paying attention, and that he apparently believed him – for now at least. Car keys in hand, he opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement, checking his watch as he locked the vehicle. He walked purposefully across the path and into the warm interior of the building. One of his fellow officers called out to him as he passed the reception desk.

“Hey, Schneider – do you need any help with that perp in your car?” 

Schneider turned his head.

“No, I’m good. He’s not a perp as a matter of fact, just one of my friends having a bad day. Bit of a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“Jeez, if that’s how they react to a ‘misunderstanding’ I’d hate to see them in a full blown argument with you. The kid looked like a maniac!”

“Yeah, he can be a drama queen at times. Listen, I’m on a deadline, we’ll catch up later.”

With that, Schneider hurried up the stairs, mindful of the time. He was able to avoid further delays as he strode across the wooden floors, the boards creaking slightly with every step. At his desk, he opened the drawer located underneath the centre, and took out the folder he’d placed there earlier in the day. He was about to clock out when he had a sudden thought. He found the clerk responsible for records, and put in a request for all the information they could find on Zven, advising them to dig in Stasi records. If questioned, he’d say he was doing a background check on a possible informant. 

He looked at his watch again – he had two minutes left. Quickly stamping his time card, he took the stairs two at a time, making it to the car just as his ten minutes were up. He slid back into his seat, and put the folder into the car’s door pocket. Starting the engine, he turned in his seat. 

“Hey, Zven. You need to get back to the front and belt up before we set off. The sooner you do that, the sooner I can get you to Paul’s.”

Zven removed the blanket from where it had been covering him, and slowly unfolded himself. Schneider waited patiently while the younger man did as requested, careful not to do anything that might give Zven cause to doubt his intentions. Once he was seated safely, Schneider disengaged the handbrake and watched for a space to join the steady flow of cars.


	5. The name's Paul...Les Paul

Before long, they left the city’s centre behind and wove their way through residential areas, with trees lining both sides of the streets, some of the trees showing the first signs of spring, with new leaves opening and buds beginning to form.

Schneider turned the car onto a quiet side street and pulled into a driveway partway down. He turned off the engine and turned to Zven.

“This is Paul’s place, when you’re ready to leave, this is Till and Flake’s phone number…” he handed the younger man a slip of paper with two numbers handwritten on it. “…and the other one is mine. If for any reason Till can’t pick you up, call me and I’ll give you a lift back. It’s obvious that something happened when you were detained, and that it’s left you with a fear of the police, but I want you to know you can trust me. If I promise to do something, or not do something, I will keep my word. Okay?”

Zven looked him in the eyes as he accepted the numbers, searching for any sign of deceit, but found none. He nodded in acknowledgment.

“I’ll help you take your shopping bags inside, then I’ll leave the pair of you to your fun. Come on.”

Schneider got out of the car, after disengaging the safety lock on Zven’s door, and reached into the back seat for the bags. Zven looked at his surroundings, hedges along the perimeter badly in need of pruning back, weeds dotting the flagstone pathway, paint on the windows flaking away to expose the wooden framework. All in all, the complete opposite of Till’s home, which Flake kept in pristine condition. Zven was always worrying about putting things back in the wrong place when he helped out with washing the pots, or if he needed a coaster for his mug so as not to leave marks on the furniture. He had the distinct feeling that he won’t have the same concerns here.

He shut the car door and walked up to join Schneider, waiting patiently for him at the front door. The taller man rang the doorbell and smiled at Zven.

“I hope you remembered to bring earplugs with you – you might find they’ll come in handy – Paul just doesn’t know when to shut up! Speak of the devil…”

The door was flung wide open and Paul burst through the opening, a grin stretching from ear to ear, his bleached-blonde hair tethered in a top-knot.

“Great! You’re here! Come in…”

He grabbed Zven by one arm and practically dragged him inside the house, a constant flow of words streaming out. Zven wondered momentarily whether Paul had managed to learn how to function without oxygen as he didn’t seem to pause for air. He looked back over his shoulder to where Schneider was following them in, carrying their purchases. The taller man had an amused expression on his face watching Zven getting caught up in the mini-tornado that was Paul’s enthusiasm. For a fraction of a second Zven thought about calling Schneider for ‘help’, feeling somewhat overwhelmed, but when Paul led him into the living room all thoughts of escape vanished.

Plugged into an amp and resting on a stand was an ebony black Gibson Les Paul. It was the most beautiful thing Zven had ever laid his eyes on. 

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Paul asked, beaming with pride. “I got her as a gift to myself when my divorce was finalised, it was love at first sight, and unlike my ex-wife this beauty won’t cheat on me.”

Zven wandered further into the room, now that Paul had let go of his arm, and knelt down in front of the guitar, admiring its curves and lines with the same intensity he would with a lover.

“I’ve never seen anything as lovely as this before,” Zven acknowledged, finally finding his voice again.

Behind them, Schneider offloaded the shopping bags into an easy chair, and rolled his eyes at the pair of them.

“God save me from guitarists and their weird infatuations with their instruments! I had a very early morning start for my shift today and I’m ready to get some shut-eye, so Zven…this is your last chance to escape Paul before I leave. Are you sure you want to spend the afternoon with this maniac?”

The younger man tore his attention away from the guitar and looked at Paul. He remembered how easy Paul had been to talk to after the gig, and he really wanted the opportunity to see if he could still play after years without a guitar.

“Yes sir, I’m sure.”

Paul snorted with amusement on hearing Zven addressing Schneider as ‘sir.’

“Did Schneider tell you to call him that? That’s so funny!”

“No, I didn’t, I’ve told him to call me ‘Schneider’ or ‘Doom,’ but unlike some people I could mention, Zven is very polite. You could learn a thing or two from him!”

“Sir, yessir!” Paul replied, offering a mock salute which got a hint of a smile from Zven.

“What did I do that was so bad that for my punishment I got you as a friend? I’m going. Zven – don’t forget to phone Till when you’ve had enough of Paul, which I’m sure will be fairly soon. I’ll arrange another time for us to go over the papers and get your photo done. I’ve got a lot on this week, so it will probably have to wait until next week, but we should sort it as soon as possible. Paul – I’ll give you a shout about our next rehearsal. See you both later.”

With that, Schneider made his way out to the car and drove off. 

“So, what do you fancy doing first? Have you eaten? I’ve had lunch but could rustle something up for you if you’re hungry. Do you want a drink? I’ve got tea and coffee, or something stronger if you prefer…”

“Um…I had lunch with Schneider, and I’m still not used to drinking alcohol again, yet, so a coffee would be good, please.”

“I’ll go and make drinks then. Feel free to have a go on the guitar while I’m in the kitchen. I won’t be long.”

Zven stood up and very carefully removed the guitar from its stand, sitting himself on the sofa he held the guitar in his lap and ran his fingers over the fretboard, trying to remember the shape of chords. He gave the strings a tentative strum with his right hand, finding that he had correctly remembered one chord at least. Repositioning the fingers of his left hand, he strummed again. He winced as he realised one finger was definitely in the wrong place, the resulting sound being somewhat dissonant. He corrected the finger placement before trying again, this time with a much more positive result. He smiled to himself and tried another chord, brow furrowing in concentration.

Paul wandered back in, a steaming hot mug of coffee in each hand, which he set down on a nearby wooden table. Zven noted that Paul didn’t use coasters to protect the wood, and judging by the number of dark circles on the table’s surface, probably hadn’t used them in quite some time. 

“So, what do you think?”

“I think I need a lot more practice to get back to the level I used to play at – I may need some help remembering some chords. Your guitar is awesome though!”

He handed the Les Paul back to its owner, feeling slightly self-conscious. 

“I think I’ll have to find a cheap guitar somewhere, when I’ve started earning some money.”

“That reminds me, Till and Flake never mentioned what you did for a living. They just said you’d been a bit down on your luck when they bumped into you.”

Zven’s face flushed crimson, the tips of his ears colouring to match.

“I…Uh…”

Paul realised he’d inadvertently embarrassed the younger man.

“You know what, it doesn’t matter what you used to do. Forget I asked. You came here to jam, so I’ll go grab one of my other guitars for you to use. Don’t let your drink go cold…”

The shorter man disappeared out of the room again. Zven heard footsteps running up the stairs, then the cream of floorboards as Paul apparently entered the room above the one Zven was currently sitting in. A pause, then the creaking again in the opposite direction, and a slower descent of the stairs. 

“Here you go – it’s not as pretty as the Gibson, but it should be okay for you to practice with.”

Paul handed Zven a Telecaster, the younger man impressed that this was an original and not a knockoff like the one his mother had bought for him on a trip to Prague almost a decade ago. Thinking about his mother made Zven feel melancholy, so he decided he needed distracting, and quickly.

“How can you afford to buy these guitars? They must’ve cost you a fortune!”

“Funny story… my wife was an American…well, she still is…American, that is, not my wife…but anyway, she had a lot more money than me, she wanted the divorce once she found out that I knew about her infidelity, and ended up paying me alimony so that she could walk away a free woman. Once the divorce was finalised I went on a small spending spree.”

Seeing the look on Zven’s face, he realised that he probably should’ve phrased that differently, knowing that Zven had barely a penny to his name. 

“I made sure I saved some, I didn’t blow it all on guitars. Anyway, I got this house as part of the deal, and you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, you know, until you’re back on your own two feet again. I can’t imagine the horror of having to live with Till and Flake. Flake’s my best friend and all, but he can be a bit…”

“Strict?”

“I was going to say stuffy, or uptight. Anally retentive. Ugh. Forget I said that! That’s one part of Flake I don’t want to think about!”

Zven laughed, Paul was as amusing as he remembered from their conversation at the club.

“So it’s not just me that Flake has going about on tiptoes?”

“Are you kidding? You know he’s the Dom in his and Till’s relationship, don’t you?”

The younger man almost choked on the mouthful of coffee he had just taken.

“For real? Wow. I would’ve thought it the other way round. I mean, Till was always shy when we were growing up, but he’s always had that imposing figure. I guess you never really know someone, no matter how close you are.”

“How close were you two? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“We were best friends. We always hung out together, apart from when I had a girlfriend or he had a boyfriend. Keeping that secret about him was difficult, but we managed it. I’m glad he no longer has to hide his true self, and that he’s found someone who evidently loves him.”

“So you two never…?”

Paul left the question hanging.

“No. Just friends. Nothing more. I’m …well….why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I guess. I wondered what it would be like kissing another man.” He shrugged, nonchalantly.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never kissed a man.”

“Really? I could have sworn you were … bi, I suppose, seeing as you mentioned having girlfriends. But if you’ve never been with a man, you probably won’t be able to answer some questions I have.”

“Umm… that’s not entirely accurate…” Zven hesitated, as surprise mixed with curiosity on Paul’s face, before continuing. “Before I explain, I’m going to need three things from you: firstly – why are you really asking the question, secondly – your promise not to repeat what I tell you to anyone, although Till, Flake and Schneider already know…and thirdly, something a lot stronger than coffee. I’m not ready to tell anyone this when I’m sober.”

Paul stood back up from the chair he’d sunk into, Les Paul across his lap, while they’d been talking and sipping their coffees.

“With your first request, I think I need something stronger than coffee too.”

He picked up their empty mugs and took them into the kitchen, setting them down at the side of the sink ready for washing later. Reaching up into a cabinet on the wall he pulled out two glass tumblers and put them down on the counter carefully. Next, he went to the fridge and lifted out the bottle of vodka he kept there. As an afterthought he grabbed a bottle of soda as a mixer, in case Zven didn’t want to drink his vodka neat, then picked the tumblers up again and made his way back to where Zven was waiting.

Paul poured them both a couple of fingers of vodka, then handed the soda to Zven so he could add as little or as much as he wanted.

“Okay, I guess I go first. You know how you said you can never really know a person?” Zven nodded. “Well, recently I’ve found myself having feelings for someone. Someone who happens to be a guy. Someone I’m friends with. So, I was gonna ask what it was like kissing another man, and maybe have a … a test run, for want of a better expression.”

He stopped, apparently finished for the moment, and took a quick slug from his glass. Zven looked thoughtful, mulling over how to respond. He knocked back his vodka in one go, and set his glass on the table, where Paul refilled it, but making sure to add some soda this time. He didn’t want to explain to the others how Zven wound up with alcohol poisoning on his first visit.

“Do I know this someone?”

“Yes.”

“So…he’s in your band, right?”

“That’s right, yes.”

“With you saying that you’d have to ask Flake, I think it’s safe to assume it’s neither him nor Till.”

“Correct.”

“I don’t remember you constantly looking over to where your singer…”

“Aljosha” Paul supplied.

“…to where Aljosha spent the rest of the evening, so that leaves Schneider or Ollie.”

“Right again, Sherlock!”

“So? Which is it? Schneider, or Ollie?”

The shorter man reddened slightly. “Ollie. And I know what you’re going to say… he’s only just legal, so I should back away at least until he’s a bit older…”

“Actually, I have no idea how old any of you are, apart from Till, of course. And if Ollie’s at legal age of consent and he feels the same way for you…”

“That’s another problem – I don’t know if he likes me that way, and even if he does, he thinks I’m straight, so do the others. You’re the only person I’ve told that I’m bisexual. Anyway, I’ve kept my part of the bargain. It’s your turn.”

Zven swallowed another large mouthful of vodka, this time with added soda, before looking Paul in the eyes and taking a deep breath.

“For the last few years, right up until I bumped into Till and Schneider on the street, I was a….”


	6. Drunken Confession

Paul stuck a finger in one ear and wiggled it around, frowning.

“This vodka must be stronger than I thought, because I could’ve sworn that you said you were a …prostitute…”

“I did. I was. I was working the street and propositioned Till without realising who he was…”

Another gulp of vodka.

“You better slow down on those a bit, before you make yourself ill. How did you not realise you were talking to your best friend?”

“My pimp had me permanently strung out on cocaine.”

At Paul’s shocked expression, Zven decided he might as well get up and call Till, as the other man would no doubt want to kick him out now, anyway. He started to rise.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To phone Till to come get me.”

“Why? We’ve not even started jamming yet!”

“I’ve just told you I’m a prostitute and a junkie and you don’t want me out of your house straight away?”

Paul shrugged. “We all make mistakes, and I’ve not seen you take anything since we met.”

“Till and Flake helped me go through withdrawal. I’m pretty sure I owe them my life. I know it’s not been easy for them having me as a house guest, so when I get a job I’ll have to think of how I can thank them properly. I feel guilty about staying with them so long without being able to contribute anything.”

“If it helps, my earlier offer still stands. I’ve got a spare room. There’s no bed in there at the moment, but I can soon sort that. I can help you look for a job when I’m not at work. Interested?”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want someone like me in my house if the roles were reversed. Not to mention I can’t pay you any board money until…”

“Until you get a job. I get it, it’s fine. Just pay me back when you can for anything you need until then. There is just one thing I need explaining, though.”

“What?”

“How come you say you’ve never kissed a guy, if you were a prostitute – surely there aren’t that many women that are willing to pay for your…er…services? Not that you’re not good looking, because I’m certain that when you’re back to a normal weight you’ll be pretty hot to look at…”

Zven smiled shyly at the compliment, as Paul continued.

“…uh, that’s not the reason I’ve invited you to stay, by the way, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea…”

Zven dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand, which once again held a glass of vodka.

“…so, did you just give hand- and blowjobs to the male …clients…?”

Paul looked sheepish as he asked the question, not sure how Zven would react to it. The younger man put the glass back down and collected his thoughts. There was no easy way to say it.

“No, they fucked me, and occasionally I would fuck them, depending on their preference. I had a couple of ground rules which, thankfully, my pimp helped enforce as I made them good money. First rule was no kissing. I didn’t want any client forming any kind of false attachment, which happened to other hookers who allowed kissing. The clients- ‘Johns’ as we called them – can sometimes begin to think there’s an emotional connection if you do. In order to stop them from trying to break that rule, I had another rule. I only did ‘doggy style’ - whether I was on the giving or receiving end, it didn’t matter. If prospective Johns didn’t like my rules they were offered someone else, or told to piss off.”

Their mutual friends would have been stunned to see Paul rendered momentarily speechless, his mouth moving but no words coming out. Taking advantage of this rare state, Zven started to rise again, now somewhat wobbly on his feet as the vodka worked his way through his system.

“Um, can I use your loo?”

Paul nodded and pointed towards the stairs, confident that Zven would be able to find his way once he reached the landing. Zven started walking, albeit unsteadily, to the door and then the stairs, which looked like a mountain to climb given his current state. Putting one foot in front of the other he began his upward journey.

In a more sober state than his new friend, Paul whisked the vodka and glasses away, and set about making some fresh coffee to counteract the alcohol. Knowing that he got the munchies when drunk, he assumed the same would probably be true for Zven, and rummaged around for something to eat. He found a ‘meat feast’ pizza he’d forgotten about in the freezer, and after reading the instructions on the box set the oven to cook it through. The bread base of the pizza would help mop up whatever alcohol the coffee didn’t get to work on straight away. 

Next he opened up his cutlery drawer to find the pizza slicer, which had somehow managed to work its way to the back of the drawer since he last used it. The search for plates came next, that done he resumed making the drinks and took them back into the lounge.

Zven re-emerged shortly afterwards, sitting down heavily on the sofa.

“I drink I’ve thunk a little too much…”

Paul snorted in amusement.

“You can say that again! Here – drink this, our food will be ready soon.”

Zven accepted the mug gratefully, and ever so carefully brought it up to his lips, blowing on the surface of the hot liquid to help cool it down a bit before taking a sip. Satisfied that his house guest probably wouldn’t scald himself in his absence, Paul returned to the kitchen.   
Checking the pizza was thoroughly baked, he set it on a board to slice it up and divided the pieces equally between them. He grabbed a pack of two different kinds of crisps and poured each one into a bowl. He placed both bowls, along with the plates, onto a tray and carried the lot over to the table, setting it down gingerly so as not to spill the coffees.

“Tuck in, I bet you’re hungry by now.”

Zven was surprised to realise that he was in fact ready to eat something, and reached for a slice of the delicious-smelling meal in front of him. He made contented noises as he chewed, making Paul smirk. 

“What?” Zven asked, once he’d swallowed his mouthful.

“Oh nothing…just thinking how happy you look with some meat in your mouth, that’s all…”

He dodged as a cushion was launched in his direction by Zven in response. 

“Fuck you, Paul!” the younger man retorted, laughing.

“I probably can’t afford you!” Paul said with a grin.

“You’re right, there! I’m a high-class hooker!”

The two of them fell into a fit of giggles, struggling to finish their meal in between laughing fits. Somehow they managed to clear their plates, without too much food spilling onto the carpet. Paul stacked the dishes back on the tray and scurried away with it, plonking it down next to the empty glasses.

“Do you want to watch tv for a bit, before you go back to Till’s? In fact, why not stay the night? I’m sure the lovebirds will appreciate a night alone.”

“I don’t have my toothbrush with me, or pyjamas….”

“I’ve got spare brushes in the bathroom, as for pjs, sleep in what you’re wearing now. You’ve got a change of clothes in those bags, haven’t you?”

“Yes…but…”

Paul made a rude noise.

“But nothing – I’ll phone Till now and tell him what’s going on. Choose a channel while I’m calling, will you?”

He turned the tv on, and then went out into the hallway to where the phone sat on a small desk-like table against the wall, leaving Zven to flick through the channels. Lifting the phone’s receiver, he dialled Till’s number and waited for someone to answer. After hearing it ringing about twenty times, he decided no-one was home and moved to hang up.

“Allo”

Paul managed to pull it back just before cutting the call off.

“Hey Flake, it’s me, Paul.”

“Go on, tell me…what’s happened? What’s Zven done?”

Paul frowned, annoyed on his new friend’s behalf that he was suspected of having done something wrong.

“Apart from having great food, some drinks and great conversation, he’s done nothing. I know he was supposed to call to arrange a lift back to yours, but I’ve offered to let him stay overnight as we’re getting along great and haven’t done enough on guitar yet. So I was just ringing to let you know. You get to have Till all to yourself tonight.”

He could hear the surprise in the other man’s voice at the other end of the line.

“Oh, okay…that’s great I guess. What time are you likely to surface in the morning?”

“I’ve got to be at the shop before nine, to open up, so I’ll be up at seven and out at eight.”

“If you can take Zven with you to the shop, Till can swing by to meet you and bring Zven back. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell Zven. Enjoy your evening together. Bye.”

“Bye, Paulchen. See you soon.”

They both hung up, and Paul rejoined Zven in the lounge. The younger man had found a channel that aired some American shows, which was currently transmitting Star Trek. It was an episode where the main character – Paul didn’t know their names – was battling a lizard-like alien creature called a ‘Gorn’. The costumes, sets, and special effects were clumsy, and the pair of them couldn’t help laughing at all of it. 

When they got tired of the tv, they got hold of the guitars and started playing – Paul helping Zven remember some chords that he couldn’t get quite right, then Zven telling Paul what songs he used to play, which they then tried playing together, with mixed results.

As the late afternoon turned to evening Paul drew the curtains and brought the vodka back out, both of them having gradually sobered up following the pizza. Zven drank more slowly this time, ensuring he put plenty of soda in so that he didn’t get drunk as quickly as he had previously. 

Inevitably, though, they both ended up more than a little tipsy and slumped shoulder to shoulder on the sofa as they watched a film, keeping each other at least partially upright. Whether something on the screen reminded him, or maybe he’d been thinking about it all evening, but Paul was slightly startled when Zven asked him a question seemingly out of the blue.

“What do you mean by having ‘a test run’?”

“Huh?”

“You said you wanted a test run, you know…kissing another guy.”

“I did?” Paul turned his head to get a better look at Zven, who nodded. “Oh, well… I guess I wanted to try kissing someone to see what it was like. I don’t want to go to kiss Ollie just to find I can’t bring myself to do it…or worse, kiss him and then react badly if I don’t like it.”

“And you were going to ask Flake or Till to try it?” Zven asked, grinning with amusement at the thought.

“I know… I know…it was a stupid idea. I mean, I suppose I could ask Schneider instead, but I’m pretty sure he’d only tell me off for being an idiot.”

“It’s probably just the vodka talking, but if you want to…you could try kissing me. It’ll be something new for me, too…and you’ve got me wondering how different it might be.”

“You mean that? You’d do that for me?”

“Sure…what are friends for?” 

“Pretty sure this would count as above and beyond…”

Zven shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

“What about your rules about kissing though?”

“You’re beginning to sound like you’ve changed your mind! And anyway, that rule is for Johns – not friends – and we’re not going to have sex, so it doesn’t matter. So…are you wanting to try this now?”

“As I’ll probably get cold feet if I try it sober, now’s probably the best time. So…uh… how do you want to do th –.”

He was stopped mid-sentence by Zven suddenly leaning forward and pressing their lips together. When Paul got over the momentary shock he started kissing back, a little nervously at first but growing in confidence. He raised one hand, placing it at the back of Zven’s neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, tongue requesting and gaining permission to explore the younger man’s mouth. After maybe a minute or two they broke apart.

“Well,” Zven asked, “how was it?”

“It was…nice…but it didn’t really do anything for me…what about you?”

“The same. I mean, you’re a great kisser, but I think…because I’m not physically or emotionally attracted to you it didn’t have the same effect that it might with someone else.”

“Right. So we’re both agreed that kissing another man, while slightly weird for us, isn’t repulsive, we probably need to kiss whoever we’re attracted to in order to get the proper reaction.”

“You’re making it sound like a scientific experiment!” Zven replied, with a laugh.

“Ugh! I hated science in school! I know – how about we try it again, only this time picture who we’re attracted to in our minds as we do so…?”

“That’s a good idea! Ready when you are…”

This time it was Paul who made the first move, closing his eyes once they started kissing again. He thought about Ollie, and how he felt about him, and sure enough… he felt his cock beginning to stir, making his jeans feel tighter. As their kissing increased in intensity Zven let out a soft moan, causing Paul to harden further. Embarrassed, he pulled away quickly, but not before noticing that Zven’s jeans had also developed a noticeable bulge.

“We both know who I was thinking of, but who did you think of to make you hard?”

“No one you’d know…an ex-girlfriend…” Zven replied, face flushed with his own embarrassment. “I think we can declare your experiment a success – so what are you going to do next? Are you going to ask Ollie out for a drink or something?”

“I’m going to have to think about how I can ask him. But before anything else, I’m going to bed, as I’ve got work in the morning. Damn! I forgot to get blankets and a pillow out for you! Just for tonight we’ll have to share my bed. It’s a double and I’ve got a large bolster cushion that we can stick down the middle so we don’t wind up together while we sleep. Come on – up the stairs!”

Zven allowed Paul to pull him to his feet and traipsed after him towards to the master bedroom, clutching his shopping bags so he could get changed quickly in the morning. Paul placed the bolster under the sheets, down the centre of the bed, then pointed to one side.

“That’s your side for tonight, and you can find a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet. I have to be at work before nine in the morning, so my alarm will be going off at seven. Flake said that Till will meet us at the shop to take you back to theirs. Do you want to use the bathroom first?”

“Yeah, I think I will, thanks.”

He disappeared back out onto the landing and could be heard pulling the cord for the bathroom light switch. Paul changed into his pyjamas and set his alarm while he waited for his turn. Zven returned, smelling minty, and sat down heavily on his side of the bed.

“I think I’m going to have a hangover in the morning!”

Paul laughed. “I did tell you to slow down with the vodka, so you’ve only yourself to blame!”

He pottered off to do his own ablutions, leaving Zven attempting to remove his shoes and socks. He was still struggling to remove his jeans when Paul returned, managing to somehow get a foot stuck in one of the legs.

“Need a hand there?”

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that, either my jeans have shrunk, or my foot’s swollen up!”

Paul shook his head in amusement, and soon remedied the situation, allowing Zven to scoot under the covers and try to get settled. Paul draped the jeans over the back of a chair, then returned to his side of the bed. Zven felt the mattress dip as the shorter man got in and turned out the light.

There was a faint glow around the edge of the bedroom door coming from a lamp Paul had left on in case Zven needed the bathroom during the night. Even if Zven managed to locate the switch, the main overhead light would be too harsh for someone who was both hungover and only just awake, which Paul had been on many an occasion, which led to him buying the lamp now currently shedding a soft glow.

Both of them fidgeted around a bit until they found their most comfortable sleeping positions, before laying still, waiting for sleep to come.

“Goodnight Zven. Sleep tight.”

“Night Paul, thanks for today.”


	7. Car Conversations

Zven woke before Paul’s alarm went off, and instantly regretted it. He had a massive headache and his tongue felt like a carpet had been laid on it during the night. He also found he was terribly thirsty. He gingerly pushed the covers aside and sat up, clutching the edge of the mattress to steady himself as the room seemed to spin and tilt violently around him.

Once he’d regained his equilibrium, Zven stood up and shuffled slowly across the floor to the bedroom door, squinting as the soft glow from the lamp seemed to throw needles into his eyeballs. He waited a moment until he could open his eyes a little more before continuing along the landing to the bathroom. He decided against pulling the light cord, instead relying on the light from the small frosted-glass window.

He turned on the cold water tap, and tried to use his hands as a cup to slurp the cool liquid from, but rather frustratingly he couldn’t contain the water long enough to get a good mouthful. Giving up on that method, he bent down towards the basin and, turning his head sideways, managed to drink directly from the flow. After several gulps, he turned the tap back off, and wiped his face dry with a towel hanging on the radiator.

Thirst quenched, he moved over to the toilet and took a piss, relieving his complaining bladder. Feeling slightly better, he decided to head back to bed for a bit. He could see from the light outside that it was almost dawn, and he knew that they had to be up early. He’d yet to get a watch, so he was reliant on his friends to let him know when he needed to do things.

Paul was still sleeping when he returned to the bedroom, the shorter man snoring softly into his pillow. Zven smiled at the sight, he was definitely glad to have met this man with seemingly boundless enthusiasm for everything, but was also happy to know that Paul did stop talking from time to time. He hoped that, with Paul’s attention constantly shifting from subject to subject, the other man wouldn’t press him for more information on who Zven was thinking of during their ‘experiment’, as he wasn’t sure he could explain it to himself.

As quietly as possible he crossed back to his side of the bed, clambering back under the covers. He laid his head back down on the pillow, and was asleep again within moments.  
It only felt like he’d been out for a few minutes had passed when Paul’s alarm rang loudly, waking him with a start, but he’d managed to get nearly two hours more. Paul’s arm snaked out from under the covers and swiped wildly in the direction of the annoying sound, before eventually making contact and switching it off. 

Paul groaned and sat up, stretching his arms out, before apparently remembering he wasn’t alone. He turned to look at Zven who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, yawning widely.

“Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

Zven was amazed at how Paul could go from fast asleep to wide awake in the blink of an eye, especially considering how much vodka they’d both drunk.

“I think I was more unconscious rather than asleep, but your bed is definitely more comfortable than the one in Till’s spare room. I managed to get some more sleep after I got up earlier.”

“I thought you looked better than I expected, I wasn’t looking forward to explaining to Till and Flake why I had to carry you to work! Do I take it you won’t need the bathroom for a while? I could do with showering first then sorting breakfast for us both.”

“No, I’m okay for now, you go ahead. I’ll enjoy the comfort a little longer.” 

As he got up, Paul glanced at Zven, who’d rolled over and was now hugging his pillow, eyes closed. Realising that the younger man would probably fall asleep just as soon as he left, he picked up his alarm clock and set it to go off in fifteen minutes’ time. It was far enough away from Zven that he would be forced to get out of bed to turn it off. He set it back down and headed off for his shower, grinning.

*

 

When Zven appeared in the kitchen some time later, freshly showered and dressed, he was scowling.

“That was evil of you – I thought you were supposed to be my friend!”

“Yes, it was and I am! Look – I’ve made breakfast and coffee for you! And you wouldn’t want me to get into trouble for being late to work because you overslept, now, would you?”

“No…” Zven admitted, grudgingly, taking a seat at the table.

Paul placed a cooked breakfast on Zven’s placemat, quickly followed by a cup of steaming hot coffee, then did the same for himself. 

“Tuck in – you’ll feel better once you’ve got food in your stomach.”

Zven’s stomach growled as the smell of food hit his olfactory senses, which made Paul laugh. 

“See – your stomach agrees with me! You better feed it quick!”

The pair made short work of their breakfast, with Zven soon making appreciative noises as he ate, which Paul took as a great compliment. He stacked their empty dishes by the sink and looked at his watch.

“We better get a move on. Have you got all your things together?"

“Yeah, I’ve put the bags by the front door, ready for off. Would you like me to wash up while you finish getting ready?”

“No, I’ll do them when I get home. Let me get my keys then we’ll go.”

Zven looked at the pots, feeling a little guilty for not cleaning up after himself, which he realised was a result of living under the same roof as Flake, then shrugged. Things with Paul were definitely more laid back. Leaving the kitchen, he moved to stand near the front door to wait for his host. 

Paul came thundering down the stairs at a speed that Zven considered somewhat dangerous, pulling on a jacket, keys dangling from his mouth to keep his hands free. Zven picked up his bags and followed the shorter man outside, waiting patiently by the car’s passenger door for Paul to lock the front door and unlock the vehicle.

“Go on, get in – it’s not locked.”

“You left your car unlocked all night? Aren’t you worried that someone might steal it?”

“This heap of junk? Honestly, they’d be doing me a favour if they did. I could buy a better car with the insurance money.”

He opened his door, and settled himself behind the steering wheel. Zven got in beside him, putting his bags on the floor in front of him, below the glove compartment. Paul turned the key in the ignition, then rolled the car slowly down the drive, pausing momentarily to check the traffic before turning onto the road.

As they drew closer to the city centre, the morning rush-hour became more apparent, with more cars on the roads, flowing at a slower pace the further in they got. Waiting for the traffic lights to change at a junction, Paul decided to ask a question that had been bugging him since the previous night.

“Can I ask you something personal, Zven?”

The younger man groaned inwardly, assuming that Paul was about to ask the question he’d been hoping to avoid. Noticing Zven’s hesitation Paul added, “I realise we’re at the start of our friendship and that there are things you won’t want to share with me, so I won’t be offended if you tell me to mind my own business.”

Zven appreciated the opportunity to turn Paul down, and prepared himself to do just that.

“Yeah, you can ask, but as you say, I may not answer.”

“Okay then. What I want to know is: how did you end up being a male prostitute?”

Zven let out a sigh of relief. This question was easier, and less embarrassing to his mind, than the one he’d been expecting.

“How much have the others told you?”

“Nothing really, just that you went missing years back, and that Till and Schneider bumped into you on the streets a couple of weeks ago.”

“Well, I’ll try to cut a long story short. On my way to meet up with Till I encountered a public protest as I exited the U-bahn station. As I was cutting through the crowd to cross the street the Stasi turned up, and I got rounded up and arrested along with the protesters. When I was eventually released, a few days later, my stepfather told me that my mum had disowned me for being involved in a protest march, and handed me a bag with a few belongings in, and told me not to return. 

I had a bit of money in my bank account, and used some of it to buy a train ticket to Prague. I tried to do odd jobs to make some money, so I could afford somewhere to sleep and for food, but eventually the money in my account and the odd jobs dried up. I decided to try hitchhiking to another city to see if I could get a job somewhere new.

I guess I was naïve, as I never thought that all drivers offering me a lift would do it for any reason other than kindness, but I soon discovered the harsh reality. While some people were just happy to help, others were just waiting for someone as stupid as me to fulfil their desires. A guy driving a truck gave me a lift, I can’t remember where I was at the time, but I think we’d crossed the border into Austria by this point.

He pulled into a lay-by saying he was required to rest for a while or he’d be breaking the law. Once he’d parked the truck he told me it was time to ‘pay my fare’ – he demanded I give him a blowjob. When I refused he got angry and made to grab me, but he got caught on his seatbelt giving me the chance to jump out of the cab and run away. He tried following me, but I found a great hiding spot and he eventually gave up and drove off.

After that I avoided the autobahn and stuck to minor roads, grabbing blackberries off hedgerows, snatching fruit off trees in people's gardens, washing in rivers. I managed to find seasonal work for a while, the type where they don’t ask for IDs and pay cash, but when that dried up I moved on again. I was sleeping on a park bench one night when someone stole my bag with all my belongings, including my ID card. Unable to get a job without it, and no money to speak of, I found myself in a desperate situation.

I tried hanging around places where single women might go, trying to pick one up, in the hope that they take me to their home, and while they slept to take some money and food, but I was beginning to look like the vagrant I was. In the end, when a guy pulled up next to me on the kerb and offered me money for a blowjob I felt I no longer had the choice. It was either that or starve to death. After he drove away when we were done, I threw my guts up. But I had money.

For a while the money I got from blowjobs wasn’t enough – winter was coming and I needed a safe place to sleep. The local prostitutes were familiar with me by now, so I asked them for help. In exchange for a bed in an apartment a few of them shared, I would give them some of my earnings, but I would need to have sex with johns in order to make enough to pay for food and clothing as well as my lodgings. Realising that this would be a traumatic progression for me, they knew something had happened in my past but not the details, the girls offered me a joint to help calm me down. It worked, and they brought me my first client. 

They were the ones who suggested the rules I told you about, and made sure I was safe. Just like the first time I gave a blowjob, I threw up immediately after the john had left. One of the girls cleaned me up, they gave me another joint, and later another client. After a while I stopped caring, whether it was because of the drugs or I just switched my brain off while working, I couldn’t say. I ended up staying there about a year, moving with the others as they switched accommodations to stay ahead of the police.

One night I decided to go and grab a bite to eat from a nearby café, which saved my life. A pimp had moved onto our patch and told the girls that they worked for him now. Those that refused him were killed by his thugs, their bodies dumped as a warning to others. When I found out what happened I grabbed my stuff and ran.

I started hitch-hiking again, making my way gradually into West Germany. When drivers demanded payment I no longer tried to avoid it. There was no point anymore. I would spend a few weeks in each town I found myself, trying to find seasonal work or other jobs cash-in-hand jobs, usually as a labourer of some sort. When I did find a job, I stayed until I was no longer needed, then would move on again.

Eventually I found myself in Berlin, around the time the unrest in the East was intensifying. I worked the streets close to the Wall, wanting to be close by in case the unthinkable happened. When the Wall came down I joined in the celebrations, but I didn’t cross back home straight away. I waited until I found out that the Stasi had been disbanded, then walked across the border. Obviously, without my ID I still couldn’t get a proper job, but at least now I could get a copy of my birth certificate and apply for a replacement.

Naturally I would need money for it, so I decided to find somewhere to tout for customers. A few days after I’d found what I thought was an available patch Bruno discovered me. His goons overpowered me, taking me back to their HQ where they pumped me full of cocaine until I was hooked, then forced me to work for them. Months later I asked Till if he wanted to party, being so strung out on coke that I didn’t recognise him. The rest, you know….”

Astonishingly, Paul had remained silent as Zven told his tale, letting the younger man recount his past without interruption. He was horrified at what Zven had had to do in order to survive, and was now even more determined to help him get back on his own two feet. Offering him a room in his home was a start, but he decided he would ask around to see what jobs might be available, and if any would be willing to overlook the lack of ID while Zven got that sorted. Thinking about that, Paul decided he would call Schneider later and find out what the situation was.

They had finally reached the shop where Paul worked, and as he pulled into the reserved parking spaces behind the building he spotted Till’s car turning out from the adjacent street. Paul turned the engine off and looked to Zven sitting quietly now next to him.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, I’m sure that won’t have been easy for you. I can’t begin to imagine what it must’ve been like living like that, if it had been me I would probably have been dead after a few weeks. Listen, like I said before, you can consider my home to be your home too, for as long as you like, and if you want to, you could start today – but it might be a few days until the bed I’ll need to order is delivered. Just call me to let me know when you want to move in, so I can clear the spare room ready for you.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you. I’ll think about it and let you know. Um…what I’ve just told you….”

“I won’t repeat to a soul. I know I’ve got a reputation for letting my mouth run away with me before my brain’s engaged, but things like what you’ve just told me stay locked away in my memory, but the key gets thrown away.”

Zven looked at the earnest expression on Paul’s face, and was certain he could trust him.

“Thank you – for that, for your offer, and for listening. That’s the first time I’ve told anyone about how I ended up as I am, and I’m grateful that you’ve accepted me for who I am.”

“You’re welcome. Okay, let’s grab your bags and hand you over to Till. I’ll speak to you later about the room and to arrange another jam session, although next time we might leave the drinks until after we’ve played!” Paul finished, with a grin.


	8. Secrets Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a dark chapter, but necessary for the story. Trigger warnings for mentions of rape/non-con and any medical phobias.

A few days later, and after much discussion between Paul, Till, Flake and himself, Zven moved in to Paul’s home. This came as a relief to Zven, as he could tell that his presence in their home was putting a strain on Till and Flake’s relationship, although they kept reassuring he could stay as long as he needed to. But Zven found that being around Paul was far more relaxing for himself. The two guitarists enjoyed each other’s company and the opportunity to play guitar together whenever they felt like it.

“Don’t forget that Schneider will be calling round later to finish sorting your ID card out. Oh, and I ordered a bed for the spare room. They said it might be a few weeks before it’s delivered, so we’ll just have to share a little longer than we thought. Hope you don’t mind?”

Zven looked up, bleary-eyed, at Paul from his side of the bed, as the older man dashed about getting ready for work.

“It’s not like I have much of a choice. I can always kick you out onto the sofa if you snore too much!”

“Why would I be the one on the sofa when it’s my house?” Paul asked bemused.

“Because it’s a small sofa and you’re shorter than me! Have you thought about what you want for dinner tonight- it’s my turn to cook!”

“Oh, I didn’t get to tell you, as you were already asleep when I got back from rehearsals – I asked Ollie to go for a drink with me after work later, and he said yes. I’m hoping we’ll stay long enough to eat, too.”

“That’s great! I’m glad you’re finally getting the chance to tell Ollie how you feel! I guess I won’t see you ‘til late if it all goes well. Good luck!”

Paul smiled. “Thanks, I’m gonna need it, I’m nervous as hell! Hope everything goes smoothly for you today too. Just remember, Schneider might seem like he’s got a drum stick stuck up his backside at times, but he does have a heart of gold underneath his rigid exterior. He just has a hard time trusting new people- he’s been let down too many times in the past. Give him time to get to know you, he’ll warm up eventually.”

Zven seriously doubted that from what he’d seen, but chose not to disagree, instead remembering something he meant to tell Paul about when he got in.

“By the way, some mail arrived yesterday while you were out at work, addressed for a…” he paused, searching his memory, “Heiko…somebody or other. I’m guessing it was the previous owner? I can mark them ‘return to sender’ and post them while I’m out if you like?”

“No need – they’re for me.” On seeing Zven’s confusion he added, “I changed my name when I got married, but some companies haven’t updated their records despite my letters, so I’ve stopped bothering.”

“We can change our names….legally?”

“Yeah, there’s a few forms to fill in and you have to keep your given name as part of your new name – I switched my first two names and took my ex-wife’s surname. It’s a little time consuming, but I’m glad I did it. Why – are you wanting to change yours?”

“I wasn’t, but now I know I can…it’s given me something to think about, as part of my new start in life.”

“Right, we can talk about it later if you want. I need to go. I’ve set my alarm so that you don’t oversleep and make Schneider wait.”

Paul laughed as Zven groaned and flipped the bird at him, even as he sank back under the covers, determined to get some more sleep before he needed to get up.

*

Across town, Schneider was reading the file that the records clerk had managed to obtain on his behalf, while he drank his coffee on a rare break. Most of what had been noted down was pretty standard for Stasi arrest and interrogation records, but it was the pages detailing the circumstances surrounding Zven’s release that caught his attention, with an acronym he’d not encountered before.

_“On the fourth morning of the suspect’s detention, following a change of shift, the new rotation of guards discovered the suspect lying unconscious in his cell, lying in a small pool of his own blood, which had seeped through his clothing onto the mattress. Medical attention was sought immediately, and after examination and treatment had been administered, the medic advised me that they were of the opinion that the suspect had undergone one or more rounds of unsanctioned ICE sessions._

_Having found no independently verifiable connection between the suspect and the protesters, I decided that there was no further reason to detain him, and ordered his immediate release._

_The four guards on duty the previous night were each brought in for questioning about the circumstances surrounding the suspect’s condition and subsequently reassigned to Plötzensee…”_

The report continued with the responses from the guards, but Schneider could see that they had evidently covered for each other. He rose from his desk and went in search of a colleague that he knew had been assigned to liaise with the Stasi before their disbandment.

“Hey Janick , I’m reading a Stasi detention report, and there’s a term in there I’ve not seen before. Maybe you can put it into plain language for me?”

“Sure, I’ll try at any rate. What is it?”

“It says that the suspect had been subjected to one or more rounds of ‘ _unauthorised ICE sessions’_ …”

“Oh, that’s an easy one, it stands for ‘Internal Cavity Examination’, with the addition of them saying it was ‘unsanctioned’, in layman’s terms they were raped. One or more rounds suggests either one guard did it several times, or there was more than one of them that did it. It’s rare for them to be caught, which is why you won’t have come across it before, but the consequences for those that are discovered varied from city to city.”

“Thanks. That’s all I needed.”

Janick nodded and returned to his own work. Schneider returned to his desk, now acutely aware of why Zven reacted so violently to the thought of being detained again. He assumed that when he had arrested him a few weeks previously, that Zven had simply been too high on cocaine to process his circumstances fully, making him more subdued at the time, unlike last week’s reaction. He checked his watch. He had just under a couple of hours until his shift finished, three until he was due to pick Zven up.

He had agreed to tell Till anything he’d found out, but the information he’d come into possession of was too sensitive for him to divulge without Zven’s permission. He definitely needed to be more careful with his own actions, as Zven was evidently distrustful of any police, with good reason. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes tiredly, and mentally juggled the afternoon’s plan, taking the new information into consideration.

*

Zven was just finishing washing up the breakfast dishes when the doorbell chimed. Putting the mug he’d just been sponging on the draining rack, he flicked the excess water off his hands into the washbasin and grabbed the hand towel from the cupboard handle underneath, drying his hands as he walked to the front door. After a quick check through the peephole to see who it was, he unlocked and opened the door, inviting Schneider in.

“Uh, I’ll just be a couple of minutes. I’ve only just finished the dishes, so I need to grab my jacket and put my shoes on.”

“That’s okay, you don’t need to hurry. We’ve got all afternoon if needs be. I’ll wait in here.” Schneider said, indicating the living room.

Zven nodded and quickly returned the hand towel to its place in the kitchen. He pulled the plug to release the dirty water down the drain. He glanced around the room to make sure he’d done everything he’d intended to before leaving. Satisfied he’d finished his chores he made his way up to the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed while he put on his trainers. Glancing out of the window to check the weather, he decided that he only needed a light jacket, considering they would spend the majority of their time travelling in Schneider’s car.

Laces tied, he stood up and opened the door to his side of the wardrobe he shared with Paul, reaching in to grab his black ‘bomber’ jacket. Slipping it on over his t-shirt, he picked up his copy of the house key and the few bank notes he had, pushing them deep down in his jeans pocket. Keeping his key in one hand, he used the other to steady himself as he ran back down the stairs.

He found Schneider in the living room, gazing thoughtfully out of the window.

“I’m ready, sir…Schneider,” he corrected himself.

Schneider dropped his head down, trying to hide his smile of amusement from Zven, before turning round. He spent a moment taking in the younger man’s appearance, and nodded approvingly.

“Hard to believe it’s only a week since I last saw you. You’re already looking much healthier, Paul’s obviously feeding you well. It was definitely the right decision to hold off on your photo a little longer. Before we go, I’ll tell you what I have planned for us today, so there aren’t any surprises, and you can tell me if you feel uncomfortable about anything, alright?”

Zven nodded, waiting patiently.

“Okay, so…while you’re all fresh as a daisy, we’ll go to the shopping mall and find one of those photo booths people use for their passport photos and get your picture taken. After that, considering your most recent…occupation… I want to take you to a clinic for a full health check…” he paused, waiting for the objection he thought might come, continuing once he realised none were forthcoming, “after that I thought we could go for lunch somewhere. If you think you can cope with me a little longer after that we can start filling in the application forms for your ID. I managed to get a copy of your birth certificate which will help.”

“Erm…I was wondering…” Zven started, unsure if this was the right time to ask.

“Go on…” Schneider encouraged the young man to continue.

“Paul said that it’s possible to change your name, legally, and that he has done it…”

“That’s true, yes. Why?”

“I was wondering if I could change my name…you know, while I’m doing my ID. If it’s not too much trouble that is?”

  
“Well, it means filling in another form and waiting a little longer for your ID to come through, but sure, we can do that. Is there a particular reason you want to change it, and do you got another name in mind? I want to be sure you’re certain you want to do this, as you’ll be stuck with your new name for years. You can’t chop and change whenever you feel like it.”

“I thought that, with my new start that you’ve all given me, I wanted a new name to represent the new me. That the bad things all happened to ‘Zven’, not the new person you’re helping me become. As for a name, I haven’t settled on one yet, but I’ve narrowed it down to three possible ones.”

“While your reason for wanting to change is sound, I don’t think we should start the application for that just yet,” he held his hand up to stop Zven interrupting, “I’m not saying never… you need to be absolutely certain before we do that. I’ll pick up the form ready for when you’ve chosen the final name. In the meantime we’ll get your ID card so you can start applying for jobs, sooner rather than later. First things first, though. Get your bony ass in my car and we’ll get started. Raus!”

Zven was disappointed that Schneider wouldn’t help him change his name straight away, but what he said made sense. He tried not to show his disappointment as he led the way out of the house before locking the door behind them both. He sat quietly in the car as Schneider got in the driver’s seat next to him and turned the key in the ignition, starting them off on their journey.

The first part of their itinerary went smoothly, the pair finding a photo booth inside the shopping mall they had visited the previous week. Then it was onto the clinic. Zven had remained calm right up until the point they reached the reception desk, but he started to develop nerves as he filled in the admissions form - the questions about the prospective patients’ sexual history seemed to have been designed to create the most embarrassment possible – his pen hand started to shake slightly, and he started shifting in his seat nervously.

Schneider noticed his discomfort, and leaned in to whisper quietly in his ear.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” A nod in response. “There’s nothing you need to worry about, but if it will help put you at ease I’ll have the tests done too. You can come in with me so that you can see exactly what’s involved, and then, if you want, I can stay with you while you have yours done. Would that help, do you think?”

“You’d really do that for me?” Zven asked, amazed.

“Yes, I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise! Do you want me to do that?”

Zven nodded, still anxious, but wanting to do everything that Schneider asked of him as his way of thanking the police officer for his assistance. Schneider smiled and squeezed Zven’s free hand reassuringly as he stood up.

“I’ll go and get a form for myself from the receptionist, and explain what we want to do. It’s not unusual for patients to have someone accompany them into the exam rooms, so you don’t have to worry about it seeming odd to anyone here. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

He strode quickly to the desk on the other side of the room and spoke softly to the woman seated there. She flicked her gaze towards Zven, then back to Schneider, and nodded. She passed a clipboard and pen to him, before making a quick note on a memo pad and returning to her previous activity on the bulky computer occupying a large portion of the desk.

Schneider sat back down next to Zven and started filling in the form. As he went down the series of questions he realised why Zven had paused over one question in particular.

_In the last two years how many sexual partners have you had?_

“I can’t answer this – I wasn’t exactly keeping score. I don’t know what to put down.”

“I suggest writing the truth down. If you mention your former occupation, and maybe a rough figure of how many clients you had a week, I’m sure they can do the math from there.”

“Do they really need to know that though? It just seems a bit too…personal.”

“It helps them determine how to tailor any necessary treatments and aftercare to match your individual circumstances. A lot of what they do here is focused on preventing disease and illnesses.”

“Oh.”

The younger man finished writing his responses down, and handed the clipboard over to Schneider, who returned both sets to the receptionist. She input the information onto an online form, which she then printed out. She put both printed forms together with a small handwritten note with a paperclip, and popped them on a stack of paperwork trays, ready for the medics.

There were two other men waiting before them, who were each called by a nurse and taken to separate examination rooms. Eventually their turn came, and the nurse led them down a brightly lit corridor to a room furnished with a padded examination gurney, a large roll of disposable paper on one end providing a clean surface for each patient. There was a metal trolley with various medical instruments laid out on it, a washbasin set against one wall with sanitary liquid wash, and separate bins for sharps, bio-hazardous waste, and general waste. There was also a pair of chairs, a desk, and a privacy screen.

Schneider motioned for Zven to sit on one of the chairs, while he perched against the gurney as they waited for the medic. Zven couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting nervously, making Schneider worry that he might bolt off at any moment. Fortunately the medic arrived before he got the opportunity. Schneider had asked the receptionist if it was possible for them to have a female medic, as he suspected that Zven would refuse to let a man to give him a thorough examination. Luckily there was one on duty that day.

She greeted them both in a friendly manner, and took a quick look at the records in front of her.

“Right then, I’m guessing the young man on the chair is Zven, and you’re Christoph – is that correct?” she asked Schneider.

“Yes. That’s right.”

“And you’ve been here before, but this is Zven’s first time?”

Schneider nodded.

“That explains why he looks like a deer caught in the headlights.”

She smiled reassuringly at Zven. “You don’t need to worry – as requested I’ll do each procedure on your friend first, so that you can see exactly what’s involved then I’ll do yours. If at any time you want me to stop, just tell me. Okay?”

Zven nodded and chewed his bottom lip anxiously.

“Right then, let’s get started. We’ll take your blood pressure, measure height and weight, then I’ll take some blood samples for testing...”

The first few procedures didn’t bother Zven much, he’d had them done before, as a child. The physical examination sent his anxiety levels soaring, he watched as Christoph, who had removed his trousers and underwear behind the privacy screen before lying on the gurney with a couple of strips of the paper covering his privates, had his genitalia checked for any signs of STDs, and included a rectal examination.

The thought of that being done to himself made Zven feel dizzy. He managed to get undressed and in position, but he couldn’t stop from shaking. Schneider moved his chair so that he was next to the gurney and took Zven’s hands in his.

“Focus on me, and it will be over before you know it. Why don’t you tell me about the bands that you’re into? What your favourite albums and songs are…”

While talking to Schneider took most of his attention away from what the clinician was doing, he was still aware of what she was doing. When she got the lube out for the rectal exam, he tensed up so much that Schneider thought that the younger man would break his fingers he was squeezing so tightly. Ignoring the pain in his hand as much as possible he used his free hand to brush Zven’s fringe from his face, then gently rubbing circles on his cheek with his thumb in an attempt to soothe him, speaking softly and calmly.

It appeared to work as Zven gradually loosened his grip, allowing the blood to flow back into Schneider’s finger tips, making them tingle. The clinician did the procedure as quickly as possible, not wanting to cause the young man any more distress than she already had. Once she had finished she quickly labelled the samples taken, then left the room apologising for the discomfort she had inadvertently caused.

“You did great, Zven. I’m really proud of you, that can’t have been easy for you. Put your clothes back on, and we’ll go get some lunch.”

Schneider moved the privacy screen into place, to give Zven as much dignity as possible while he redressed. The relatively easy task took longer than normal as Zven found his hands were still shaking, but a short time later he walked out from behind the screen. Seeing the younger man’s expression and demeanour, Schneider pulled him into a hug, holding him close.

“It’s over now, I promise I won’t ask you to go through that again. We just need to make sure that you’re clean in case you cut yourself or something and we come into contact with your blood. I’m sure you want to know that you’re healthy too, right?”

Zven nodded, head pressed against Schneider’s shoulder and chest. The taller man gave him a peck on the forehead, gave him a brief squeeze then let him step back out of the hug.

“Come on, you can choose where we eat again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I live in a country where ID cards aren't issued, I've made a rough guess as to the process involved. The added fact that this is an AU also provides poetic licence.


	9. At home with Schneider

Stomachs suitably filled, the two men were back in Schneider’s car heading for his house. Zven had been quiet all through lunch, only speaking to identify what he wanted to eat and drink. He’d started fidgeting again and his eyes kept darting around the café watching everyone. 

Mindful of Zven’s mental and emotional state, rather than completing the forms in the café which had been his original intention, Schneider suggested they complete them at his house, where it was quieter and much more private. Zven agreed without hesitation, his social anxiety threatening to cripple him if he didn’t go somewhere else and soon.

Schneider lived in the same neighbourhood as Paul, albeit on a different street, where the houses were generally better maintained, hedges trimmed, paths clear of litter, paintwork not peeling as much. He parked his car on his drive, reversing in so that it would be facing forwards next time he came to drive.

Zven got out cautiously, scanning his surroundings which was a habit he’d got into when he was constantly on the move. He realised that Schneider was waiting for him at a door halfway down the side of the house, rather than the front door, and traipsed after him. Noting that Zven was approaching, Schneider went through the doorway which opened into the kitchen.

Setting down a couple of document wallets on the modest kitchen table, Schneider motioned towards the internal door leading to the rest of the house.

“Go through and make yourself at home. If you need the bathroom, go up the stairs and turn left. You’ll see it straight ahead. I’ll make us some coffee and bring it through.”

Zven nodded, which seemed to be a habit he had instead of talking when he felt nervous, Schneider thought to himself, and crossed the linoleum floor with a few strides. He pressed the handle down, pulling the door open, moving into a carpeted hallway. A doorway immediately to his left led to what appeared to be a dining room, but the table and chairs had been tucked away in one corner, with the rest of the space taken up by a drum kit.

Evidently Schneider didn’t hold many dinner parties. Another door, further down, opened into the lounge which contained a three-piece suite, a television set with a games console attached, a stacked hifi system, and a coffee table. There was an original fireplace set into the external wall, surrounded by a carved wooden mantelpiece. Three framed photos rested on it, which Zven wandered over to look at, curious.

He’d got a family portrait photo in his hands when Schneider strolled in with their drinks.

“Oh god, don’t look at that – I look like such a dork in it! I only have it because my mother insisted.”

He realised that was probably one of the worst things he could have said to Zven, as the younger man’s face crumpled as he put the photo back with shaky hands.

“Shit, I’m sorry – I didn’t think. You’ve probably not seen your family since you’ve been back, have you?”

“No. They wouldn’t want to see me anyway – they disowned me when I was arrested.”

He wiped the tears away that were forming at the corners of his eyes with the heels of his palms, trying very hard not to succumb to the despair he felt clawing at him. 

“Look, we can do this another time if you don’t feel up to it right now, I know it’s been a rough day for you already…”

“No…it’s fine…I’m fine…it just blindsided me a bit. We’ve already delayed my application once, I don’t want to keep disrupting your plans. I’m ready.”

He sat down on the sofa and reached for the coffee that Schneider had put on the table near him. Deciding that it was best not to pursue the issue, Schneider sat next to him, putting the document wallets that he’d carried tucked under one arm on the table between them, and retrieved a couple of pens from his back pocket.

“Okay, the wallet on the left has a certified copy of your birth certificate, and some other documents proving your identity and nationality…” He opened the wallet and withdrew the birth certificate, “Just check that the details are correct, if they are then I know I’ve got the correct supporting documents…”

What Schneider left unsaid was that those documents were copies of his parents’ birth and marriage certificates. He knew that Zven would probably realise what they were, but they could probably get the application finished faster if he didn’t draw attention to them. Zven gave the document a quick inspection and agreed that it was the correct information. Returning the certificate to the folder, Schneider switched to the other one, pulling out a couple of copies of the same form.

“Okay, this needs to be in your handwriting with it being an official form, capital letters except for your signature. Don’t worry about making mistakes, I’ve got a spare form for backup.”

They went through the form together, Schneider translating the oft confusing legalese, and Zven filling it in, his face a mask of concentration. It didn’t take long to complete with Schneider’s help, and they were soon returning the forms to the document wallets.

“Do you want to hang out a little longer, or is Paul expecting you home for dinner?”

“He’s, uh…he’s meeting Ollie after work for drinks and will probably be late home. He said he’d call if that looked like changing.”

“Calling you at home?” Zven nodded. “I guess we better get you back there just in case, then. I’ll get the car keys.”

He got as far as the lounge doorway before it dawned on him exactly what Zven had said.

“Wait…what do you mean ‘if that looks like changing’?”

Zven shrugged.“Either things will go well, and he’ll stay out very late, possibly overnight, or things will go badly and he’ll be home early.”

“Are you saying that Paul is going on a date with Ollie?”

“I don’t think that this evening counts as a date, but he’s certainly hoping it will lead to one.”

“Okay. So that’s new. Do Till and Flake know?”

“About tonight? I don’t think so.”

“Actually, I meant about Paul not being straight, as we all believed.”

“Oh…you mean he hadn’t told any of you?” Zven looked worried.

“He certainly hasn’t come out to me, whether he has to the others I don’t know. Maybe he was waiting until after he’d asked Ollie. Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t mind that you let it slip, it was an honest mistake, and I won’t let on that I know. Come on, let’s go.”

Schneider drove them the few streets to the house Zven now shared with Paul, parking on the street outside. 

“Um, do you want a drink or something? I prepared a lasagne earlier, and probably made more than enough for three people to share, if you want some, I just need to heat it through.”

“You can cook? You’ll make someone a perfect catch some day.”

Zven’s cheeks flushed a subtle shade of pink at the compliment, so to hide it from Schneider he busied himself turning the oven on, locating plates and cutlery, and checking the fridge to let Schneider know what drinks were available. Table prepared, they took their drinks through to the lounge, deciding that they would watch some television while waiting for the lasagne to cook.

About half an hour later, the phone rang in the hallway and Zven got up to answer it.

“Hello? Oh, hi Paulchen, how’s it going? Really? That’s great!” 

There was a pause while Paul spoke with nervous excitement on the other end.

“No, I’m fine, you stay out as late as you want… Schneider’s still here at the moment, we’re gonna have that lasagne soon …don’t worry there’s enough for you too, I’ll save you some… okay, well… enjoy yourself, I’ll see you later… I might be in bed by then, so you can give me the details in the morning…yeah, bye.”

He hung up and returned to the lounge, smiling.

“I take it things are going well for Paul and Ollie?”

“Yeah, sounds like it. Paul says they’re going to watch a film together, then he’ll be coming home, so he’s going to be late. It’s going to be weird being here alone at night, even if it’s just a few hours.”

“By ‘weird’ you mean ‘quiet’?”

Zven laughed softly. “Certainly quieter than I’m used to, at any rate.”

“I don’t need to go home any time soon, if you want company. I know Paul has one of the latest computer consoles, we could play a game if you like?”

“I don’t know how to set it up, do you?”

Schneider smiled. “Oddly enough, yes. Paul and I often take each other on.”

An insistent buzzing sound came from the kitchen, as the oven timer reached zero. Zven dashed off, having almost forgotten about dinner, but fortunately he’d timed it right. The smell of hot food wafting down the hallway drew Schneider to the kitchen.

“That smells delicious,” he remarked as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink, before taking a seat.

Zven dished out a portion for them both, adding some salad on the side of each plate, then placed them on the table.

“Would you like another drink to go with your meal?”

“If there’s some beer in that fridge, I’d love one of those. If not, coffee is fine, thank you.”

“I take it that you know that Paul always makes sure he’s got beer and vodka well stocked up at all times?”

“Yeah, it’s one of his best qualities as a friend!” Schneider replied jokingly. “Have you learned not to drink his ‘orange juice’ yet?”

Zven pulled a face. “I found out about that on what… my third morning here. I got up before Paul, decided to get a healthy breakfast so poured myself an orange juice to go with my cereal, took a large mouthful and boy… I soon realised my mistake – it nearly blew my head off!”

Schneider laughed. “We probably should have warned you when you told us you were moving in, sorry about that!”

“Needless to say, I check everything before I swallow, now.”

Realising what he’d just said on noticing Schneider’s raised eyebrow and smirk, Zven turned crimson, the tips of his ears colouring to match his cheeks.

“Uh..I meant…food and drink, y’know, not…I’ll shut up now…” he trailed off, wanting a hole in the floor to open up underneath him.

Schneider was laughing hard now, wiping tears from his eyes, unable to continue eating for fear of choking on his food.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t laugh, but the expression on your face was priceless.! Despite everything, you’re still adorably innocent! I think you should maybe have a beer yourself, to help you relax.”

“I was thinking of something a bit stiffer, myself…fuck…!” He really wanted to disappear now!

“Oh god, my sides hurt!” Schneider was clutching his sides, trying hard not to look at Zven in order not to embarrass the younger man further.

Zven found that he liked Schneider’s laugh, even though it was at his expense. He felt the corners of his mouth twitching as he looked at the normally stern police officer struggling to catch his breath. Schneider chose that moment to look at him, which set off another fit of laughter this time accompanied by Zven’s laughter, no longer able to hold it back.

It took a couple of minutes for them both to calm down, and a few swigs of beer, before they were finally able to finish their meal. Schneider helped wash and dry the dishes afterwards, then returned to the lounge with his drink to set the game console up. Zven followed soon after, making sure all the dishes were put away safely in case Paul returned home drunk, as the small man had the habit of knocking things over when inebriated.

“Have you played any games with Paul on here yet?”

“No, he’s mentioned it, but we usually watch tv if we’re not playing guitar.”

“Would you like to choose a game? I’ve played them all, so I’m happy with anything.”

Zven knelt down next to the stack of games by the console. He’d seen them there before of course, but he’d never actually bothered to take a close look until now. One name caught his eye.

“Doom? Like your nickname?”

“Yeah, the others called me that because it was the only game I liked playing when Paul first got the console, probably because it’s the only one I won on a regular basis, and now I’m stuck with it. Choose something else if you want.”

“No, let’s play this. You’ve got me curious now as to why you like it so much…”

“Alright. Get comfy, you’ll need this controller…I’ll go easy on your first go, but the gloves are off after that!”

Schneider busied himself setting the game up, then picked up his controller and sat on the sofa next to Zven. 

“Get ready – here we go…”


	10. Sex and Sexuality

The two were so engrossed in the game that they didn’t hear the key turning in the lock, and the front door opening, so when Paul suddenly appeared next to them they both almost leapt out of their skin in surprise.

“Bloody hell, Paul, when did you become a ninja?” Schneider asked, recovering first.

“Around the same time you two became deaf – do you realise how loud you’ve got the volume at, or what time it is?”

Zven looked sheepish. “That’s my fault. It felt more immersive with the sound up and the lights off.”

Schneider looked at his watch. “I didn’t realise how late it is. Good job I’m on late shifts for the next few days, I better get home.”

He stood up on slightly wobbly legs.

“I’ll leave the car here tonight and pick it up tomorrow. No way am I getting pulled over by one of my colleagues for a DUI. Zven - I’ll call you when I’ve submitted your application, and when the results come through. Perhaps we can have a rematch on my next day off?”

Zven stood up too, and turned the games console and screen off. 

“Um, yeah…that would be good, thanks. Will you be okay walking home alone at this hour?”

Schneider smiles at Zven’s apparent concern for his wellbeing. It seemed that the more time he spent with the younger man, the more his defensive walls started to crumble.

“I’ll be fine, but if it makes you feel better, I can call here when I get home, give three rings and hang up, if you like?”

The younger man nodded, mollified.

“It’ll take me about ten minutes to walk there, maybe fifteen considering how much I’ve drunk tonight. Paul – I’ll see you at practice, have a good week you two.”

With that Schneider left for home. Zven started to round up the empty bottles but Paul stopped him.

“Leave that ’til morning, it’s really late! I don’t know about you but I’m knackered, let’s go to bed.”

Deciding that yes, he felt tired too, Zven agreed and allowed Paul to drag him away from tidying up, and towards the stairs. Somehow he managed to make it up to the top without stumbling, and out of most of his clothes before falling into bed. His brain registered the phone ringing downstairs briefly before cutting off just as he nodded off to sleep. Paul was slightly disgruntled at that, as he’d wanted to share how his evening with Ollie had gone, but resigned himself to having to wait until morning instead.

*

A few hours later, Paul was pulled out of sleep by the sound of Zven screaming, trapped in his own nightmares. His arms and legs were flailing underneath the covers, gradually entangling Zven. Paul tried shaking Zven awake, but the younger man was in too deep, so he decided to try something else. Grabbing the bolster cushion, Paul threw it to the floor so that he could get closer to Zven. He rubbed the young man’s arm with his hand in soothing motions, speaking softly in his ear, telling him he was safe at home with Paul, and whatever was haunting his dreams couldn’t hurt him.

It took a few minutes, but Zven gradually calmed down, his screams turning to whimpers, then eventually falling silent. His thrashing limbs stilled, and his breathing returned to normal. Paul straightened the covers out a bit then laid down behind Zven, wrapping an arm around the young man’s slender waist, so that even in sleep Zven would know he wasn’t alone. Putting his own head on his pillow Paul listened to Zven’s breathing, and was soon asleep again.

*

When Zven woke up, before Paul’s alarm rang, he was confused by the discovery of Paul’s arm wrapped around him. He shifted position slightly, which was enough to wake the shorter man, who smiled up at him bleary-eyed.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“My head’s slightly fuzzy, and I’m curious as to why you’re snuggled up so close. Did you mistake me for Ollie in your sleep?”

Paul laughed. “No, nothing like that. You had a nightmare which I couldn’t wake you up from, but hugging you calmed you down. I hope it hasn’t made you feel uncomfortable around me.”

“Oh, thanks. I don’t remember having a bad dream, which is probably for the best, but thank you for looking after me, and don’t worry about making me uncomfortable – as long as you’re not sporting a boner when you’re hugging me, I’m okay with that. Speaking of boners, how was your night with Ollie?”

“I would have told you last night had you not fallen asleep so fast, you little drunkard!” he responded with a grin. “But to answer your question, over drinks I told Ollie that I’ve had feelings for him for sometime, and have been waiting until he was of legal age before telling him. In fact, it’s been a couple of years, before my divorce. I don’t know if my ex knew how I felt and that’s what maybe prompted her to cheat on me, but that’s in the past. I told him I would understand if he didn’t feel the same way, and would leave him alone if that was the case, but he actually said he was relieved that I’d said something because he liked me that way too, but being the quiet and shy person he is, he’d been unsure how to tell me, or whether I’d have teased him about it. So we decided to go and see a movie together, and then I walked him home. He’s still living with his parents at the moment, and has only recently come out to them, so we kissed goodnight round the corner of the house, away from the windows and with hedges screening us from the road. We’re going to see each other again at the weekend, we’re going to go for a meal together after practice. We’re going to take it slowly at first, but he’s already said he’d like us to go to the club where Flake works, sometime, but that might be a bit weird for the start of our relationship, I don’t know.”

It was clear from the way Paul related the previous night’s events that he was both nervous and excited about his new relationship with his young bandmate.

“Did you have to stand on a box to kiss him, or did Ollie pick you up?” Zven asked, with a grin on his face to rival Paul’s.

“Oi! I’m not that short!” Paul exclaimed with mock-indignation, before quietly adding, “It was a step, actually…” which made Zven burst into a fit of giggles.

When he got his breath back, he asked, “What’s so strange about him wanting to go to Flake’s club?”

Paul’s face reddened. “Um, it’s a BDSM club, you know, lots of leather or rubber, whips and chains, handcuffs…that kind of thing.”

“Oh, so that’s where Flake and Till got the handcuffs they used on me, from!”

“They used what on you!?” Paul asked, wide-eyed in astonishment.

Zven laughed again. “It wasn’t for anything kinky, it was just to make sure I didn’t try running away when they were putting me through withdrawal! Honestly, your face just now is priceless! The very idea of me doing anything like that with either of them….eewww!”

“Or as a threesome with you as the filling in the sandwich!” Paul added, determined to get his own back for Zven’s earlier comments about the height difference between him and Ollie.

“Are you trying to make me ill, Landers?” Zven asked, horrified.

Paul laughed. “Just giving as good as I’m getting! Anyway, what’s the story with you and Schneider? You seemed pretty pally when I got home last night, sitting close together on the sofa…”

Zven’s cheeks blushed slightly. “The sofa had the best angle for seeing the screen for playing the game, that’s all… and he’s been very helpful with my ID card application. You were right that he’s not so bad when you get to know him better.”

“Uh huh. I believe you…for now, but if you ask me, I think that like me you’re not completely straight! You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”

“Well of course I’m not completely straight – you know how I’ve been earning my living recently!”

“And you and I both know that sex and sexuality are two different things. Up to now you’ve said that you’re only attracted to women, but I think that’s changing as you’re changing. Think about it…”

The alarm went off at that moment, forestalling any further discussion as Paul got up to get ready for work, leaving Zven in bed pondering what Paul had said. Up to now he’d dismissed his embarrassment when around Schneider as not wanting to prove the older man right about his first impression of Zven being ‘a waste of space.’ He’d been feigning sleep in the car that first night so he’d heard everything said about him. But that didn’t explain how his body had reacted during the kissing experiment with Paul, when instead of thinking about one of his former girlfriends, he’d found himself thinking about the handsome drummer/policeman.

That startled him out of his reverie. When had he started thinking of Schneider in terms of being handsome? His cock twitched under the covers as he remembered the evening they’d spent together. He needed to take a cold shower and get himself under control. Fortunately, Paul emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his underwear with a bathrobe covering the rest of him.

“Bathroom is free, if you want it! Do you want me to make a coffee for you?” Paul called, waiting at the top of the stairs for Zven’s reply.

“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll have a shower first. I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Okay…”

Zven waited until he was certain that Paul had descended the stairs before throwing the covers back. He was definitely sporting a semi. He grabbed his own bathrobe which he carried in front of himself so that it wouldn’t be seen if Paul happened to reappear suddenly, then made the short dash to the bathroom, sliding the bolt into place to ensure his privacy. He dropped the robe onto the chair, then moved over to the bath, turning the knob to divert the water to the shower head attached to the tile wall above. Making sure that the shower curtain would keep the water in the bath and not all over the bathroom floor, he turned the taps on.

He removed his underwear, then following a quick temperature check to make sure he wouldn’t scald himself, he climbed over the side of the bath and made his way under the water’s stream. He quickly set about washing himself clean, starting with his hair which was growing longer, his natural brown roots starting to show through as he’d not bleached his hair in weeks. He rinsed the shampoo out, then put his upturned face directly under the stream, turning the temperature down a few degrees.

As the cold water started to hit his skin he could feel his arousal dissipating. Zven sponged himself down with a body wash that Paul had let him have, with a fresh minty scent to it, turning around under the flow of water to rid himself of the bubbles before reaching out to turn off the taps. Stepping out of the bath onto the mat, he wrapped a towel around his head, twisting it into a makeshift turban, then grabbed a bath towel off the heated rail and proceeded to dry himself off.

Once he was certain he was dry, he retrieved his bathrobe and headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. He pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and rubbed at his damp hair with the towel, before discarding it on the bed while he went for breakfast. He made his way downstairs quickly and was greeted by the smell of fresh coffee as he entered the kitchen. Paul pointed to a mug to indicate which one was Zven’s, as he continued stirring something in a pan on the gas cooker.

“Do you want some scrambled eggs on toast?”

Zven put his mug down and swallowed the mouthful of coffee he had just taken. 

“Yeah – can’t remember the last time I had that! Thanks.”

“You’ll have to let me know what else you fancy eating and we’ll get the ingredients next time we go grocery shopping. Here you go… what do you have planned for today?”

“I’m meeting up with Till for lunch as it’s his day off, then he suggested we go for a swim this afternoon, so we’re going to get some swimming trunks and a few other bits I need before we go to the pool. Speaking of lunch, don’t forget that lasagne I made!”

“It’s already in a tub in my bag, ready to be heated up at work. It smells delicious even now it’s cold.”

“It probably won’t taste as good as last night, but I hope you enjoy it still.”

“I’m sure it will. Right, I better finish getting ready and dash off. We’ve got a big delivery due in today, so I’ve got to rearrange the shop for the new stock. I’ll see you later!”

“Don’t work too hard!” Zven called out to Paul as he disappeared up the stairs.

“No chance of that!” Paul shouted in response, laughing.

Zven sat quietly while he finished his breakfast, contemplating what he needed to do before meeting Till. He jumped when Paul yelled out his goodbyes and the door slammed shut after him. Shaking his head and smiling, he marvelled at how quickly his life had changed in the space of a couple of months or so. It still wasn’t perfect by any means, but compared with the squalid conditions he’d been living under the past few years, Paul’s home felt positively palatial.

Finishing up, he put all the breakfast dishes in the sink bowl and ran the hot water to fill it. He made short work of the mugs and dishes, but when he came to the pan that Paul had used to scramble the eggs in, he found a fair bit of burnt on egg on the bottom. Evidently Paul hadn’t used enough oil or butter to stop the egg from sticking to the hot metal. He decided that he’d leave the pan to soak for a bit while he gathered up all the beer bottles from the lounge and did a quick tidy round. 

As he was putting the last bit of rubbish in the bin the phone rang.

“Allo?”

“Hi Zven, it’s Schneider. How are you?”

“Okay, thanks. And you?”

“Same. I’m just ringing to let you know that I’ve dropped off your application. They say it’s normally a couple of weeks, but it’s been a bit quiet lately, so it could arrive in a few days. I’ll let you know when it’s delivered though. Have you thought about what jobs you might want to apply for?”

“Not really. I’m not sure what I might be good at. I’m happy to try anything.”

“We can go through the newspaper to look for ideas when we get your card, but it might be worth having a chat with Ollie. I’m pretty sure his company was looking for extra pairs of hands with the jobs they’ve got on with all the new buildings going up.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that. Hope you have a good day at work.”

Schneider smiled on the other end of the line. “You too Zven, bye!”

“Bye.”

Zven found his thoughts wandering throughout most of the day, unable to concentrate for long on any one thing. When Till asked him what was wrong he made an excuse, saying that he had a headache, but it was nothing to worry about. He tried harder after that to pay attention to Till as he didn’t want his friend asking questions that he didn’t know how to answer yet. When he finally got home, exhausted from his first swim in years, he was glad he’d had the self-discipline to wash the pots that morning, as the thought of doing that then cooking for both Paul and himself was daunting.

He was just sorting his swimming gear into wash piles when Paul returned from work.

“You look more tired than I do, and I’ve been at work all day! Tell you what, why don’t we have a takeaway delivered, then neither of us has to cook or wash up!”

“Sounds good to me. I was having hard time deciding what to cook anyway…”

*

“I’m going to be seeing Ollie again after work, do you want me to ask him about what kind of work they want doing?”

“That would be great, yeah. You’re not coming home for dinner then?”

“No, I’m getting changed at work. We’re going to a restaurant for a meal. You don’t mind do you?”

“Of course not! I’m glad things are going well for you both. I’ll ring Till and see if he’s free tonight. We’ve not managed to catch up properly yet. You have fun!”

“Cool. Thanks! I don’t know what time I’ll be back, so don’t wait up. I’ll see you later.”

Paul left for work, a happy expression painted on his face. Zven glanced at the clock on his bedside table. He didn’t have anything planned for that day, so he decided to get a couple more hours sleep in before getting up. Turning over, he wriggled further under the covers and settled down again. It only felt like he’d been asleep five minutes when the phone rang, jolting him awake again.

Zven groaned and flung the covers back, not bothering to put anything on his feet as he dashed along the carpeted landing and down the stairs to grab the phone off its cradle.

“Allo?” he answered, slightly out of breath.

“Hi Zven. Did I just wake you?”

“Uh, yeah, but I probably needed to be getting up anyway.”

“Sorry about that. There’s a letter here for you from the clinic, and I picked your ID card up yesterday. Are you free to come over today, or would you like me to come to yours?”

“I was hoping to spend some time with Till this afternoon if he’s available, but I’ve nothing on this evening and Paul’s got another date with Ollie…”

“Well, I can come over whenever you like, so if Till is busy call me, and I’ll come over this afternoon instead of later, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah. I’ll let you know. Thanks for calling, bye.”

Zven found his hands were shaking as he hung up. He knew that the test results were due, but now that they’d arrived he had to face up to the possible consequences, which left him extremely anxious. For the first time since his withdrawal, he felt the urge to take some coke. Deciding that the anxiety would only get worse if he delayed it, he called Schneider straight back.

“Uh, hi Schneider, it’s me…Zven…”

“That was quick! Did you speak to Till already?”

“No… I haven’t rung him yet. I…uh… I was wondering if you could bring that letter now? I don’t think I can wait until later not knowing the results.” He swallowed hard, his mouth dry from nerves.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Put the kettle on!”


	11. The results are in...

Schneider could tell from Zven’s tone when he called back that the younger man was not in a good place mentally. Scooping up his car keys and the mail for Zven, he hurried out of the house and jumped in his car, arriving at Paul’s within minutes. Zven, who had got dressed in the meantime, must have been watching for his arrival, because the front door opened as Schneider pulled onto the driveway, and was pacing in the hallway as he waited.

“Hey Zven, are you okay?” Schneider asked as he shut the door.

The shorter man stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. “No…I’m …” he paused. “I’m scared…what if the results are bad? I’m not sure I can cope with that…”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve known that it would upset you, I remember feeling the same way the first time I had the tests, but you need to tackle this head on. We’re all here for you no matter what. Come on, let’s get a drink and get it over with.”

He followed Zven into the kitchen, and ended up making the drinks himself as Zven’s hands were shaking so much. He held the letter out for Zven to take, but the shorter man reached out only to pull his hand back empty.

“Could… could you open it for me?” 

Seeing that Zven was a nervous wreck, Schneider nodded, and put his finger under the envelope’s flap and drew it along the length, tearing it open. He took hold of the sheets of paper inside and pulled them out. Zven started chewing on his nails, unable to contain his anxiety. Schneider reached out one arm and pulled Zven in close for a hug, which resulted in Zven burying his head against Schneider’s chest just like he had at the clinic a couple of weeks previously.

Schneider put the papers in the hand wrapped around Zven to hold them steady while he unfolded them. He was acutely aware of Zven’s tension as he started to read through the results. The younger man’s hair smelled of the ocean from the shampoo he’d used the night before, and Schneider subconsciously breathed it in. He finished reading the letter, then used one hand to pull Zven’s chin up to face him. He smiled softly down at him.

“It’s okay Zven, the results are all negative. You’ve nothing to worry about – look!”

Zven stared up into Schneider’s eyes, and saw that the other man’s smile reached into them. He turned around, still pressed up against the drummer, to look at the papers Schneider was holding. He read them through a few times, unable to properly register the words at first.

Eventually he looked back up at Schneider. “It says I’m okay…that I’m healthy…”

“Well, aside from being underweight as a result of prolonged malnutrition, yes. And the drugs are almost entirely out of your blood system too. You’re fine otherwise.”

Zven practically threw himself at Schneider, wrapping both arms around the older man’s torso, and resting his head against his chest, eyes squeezed tight shut as he tried to fight back a flood of tears of relief.

“Thank you….thank you… thank you… I don’t know what else to say…”

“There’s no need to thank me, I didn’t do anything! Come on, let’s get our drinks before they go cold…”

Zven released him from his grip so that they could both pick up their mugs, and carry them through to the lounge and the comfier seating there.

“I don’t know what I’d have done if it had been positive. I’m glad you were here either way.”

“Well, stop thinking about the ‘what if’ scenarios. They didn’t happen, so now you can concentrate on what comes next. Before I forget, here’s your ID card, so you can get legal employment now. Did you speak to Ollie?”

“Paul’s going to mention it on their date tonight, and will let me know what Ollie says. But I need to go to the job centre and check the paper like you said, just in case they can’t take me on. I thought I might do that later, after I’ve seen Till.”

“With Paul being out, would you like some company again this evening? We’ve not had that rematch yet.”

“If you sure it’s not stopping you from doing something else, I’d like that, yes. Are you okay here while I phone Till to see if he’s still available for this afternoon?”

“Sure, I can give you a lift round if he is. By the way, I don’t know how much you’ve told Paul about your past, but you might want to put that letter away somewhere private.”

“Could you keep it with yours for me, please? I trust Paul, but I would prefer to keep it quiet.”

“Yes, of course I can. Go and make your call, I’ll wash up.”

Schneider picked up their now empty mugs and returned to the kitchen, busying himself while Zven was on the phone. He was still there when Zven finished his call.

“Till says he’ll be available in about an hour, I can make my own way there if it’s out of your way…”

“Nonsense! I said I’d take you, and by the time we’ve finished these drinks it will be time to go.”

Zven surprised Schneider by flinging his arms around his waist again and hugging tightly.

“Thank you…”

“What are you thanking me for now?” Schneider asked, amused.

“For helping me and looking after me even though you don’t like me and don’t think I’m worth it.”

“What makes you say that?” A horrified Schneider replied.

“You called me a waste of space when you arrested me, and you were right. I am. All I’ve done since you and Till found me is take from everyone, without giving anything in return.”

Schneider groaned inwardly.

“You heard that? I didn’t realise you were awake. I’m sorry, it had been a long day and I was in a bad mood. I shouldn’t have been so judgemental without getting to know you and your circumstances first. We’re all happy to help you get back on your own two feet, so don’t worry about that, we know you’d do the same if our roles were reversed. And just for the record, I do like you, why else would I be doing all this?”

“As a favour to Till and because Paul badgered you into doing it.”

“At first, yes. But as I’ve got to know you a little more, it’s all been for you. I would have told the others to finish sorting things out for you otherwise.”

“You mean that?” Zven asked, in a small voice.

It was evident to Schneider that Zven’s anxiety was also accompanied by an unhealthy amount of doubt and low self-esteem. He needed to think of a way to reverse that somehow. When he looked down at Zven’s upturned face, with his eyes wide and lips trembling, Schneider had the distinct impression that he could see the teenage version of the young man looking back at him. 

“Absolutely. I like you a lot.”

He tightened the hug and kissed the top of Zven’s head. The younger man leant against him, eyes closed, breathing in his cologne and feeling his body heat through his t-shirt, comforting him. Schneider held him close for several minutes hoping that the physical contact would provide reassurance for Zven. 

“While it would be okay with me to stand here like this all day, we better get you over to Till’s if you want to spend a decent amount of time with him.”

Zven didn’t move for a moment, enjoying the feeling of calm that being hugged by Schneider gave him. Eventually he stepped back, blushing slightly, feeling self-conscious about how he’d been acting. 

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

“I’m not.” Schneider tilted Zven’s chin up. “You might want to go and splash some water on your face before we leave. I don’t want Till thinking I’ve been putting the frighteners on you!”

*

Till had taken one look at Zven when he arrived at the house Till shared with Flake before declaring, “We need to do something about your hair!”

“What do you mean?”

“In case you’d not noticed, it’s growing longer, and your roots are showing!”

Zven moved to look at his reflection in the nearest mirror. Till was right, when they first met up again his hair was cut quite short and was bleached white. It had grown since then, and his natural brown colour was very much in evidence. He also noticed that his face had filled out a bit more, his eyes no longer looking like sunken hollows, and his skin appeared much healthier than he’d seen it in a long time.

“You’re right. But won’t going to a barbers be expensive?”

“Not when you know one personally. Let’s go, it’s only a couple of stops on the u-bahn. “

“Can we walk instead or get a bus? My last journey on the u-bahn didn’t end well...”

Till nodded, and lifted his jacket off a hook on the wall. 

“It’s not forecast for rain, so I guess the walk will do us both some good. I need to get rid of the extra pounds I gained over winter, especially with all the extra celebrations at the fall of the Wall. And you need to build up some muscle tone for when you start working. “

A couple of hours later they emerged from the barbershop, Till with just a trim, but Zven had his hair dyed so that it was all his natural colour, and with it spiked up with gel. He had a bag containing more of the gel so that he could style it himself at home.

“Now you look more human, we’ll get lunch then take a look in the job centre.”

*

Zven opened the front door to let Schneider in. The smell of a chicken casserole cooking in the oven wafted down the hallway invitingly. Schneider pulled up short as he took in Zven’s new haircut.

“You look like a little hedgehog!”

“Don’t you like it?”

“I love hedgehogs, and your hair looks great!” He couldn’t resist reaching out a hand to touch Zven’s hair. “Cool!” He grinned.

Zven’s face lit up in response, a happy smile showing off his freshly cleaned and polished teeth following a visit to a dentist that Till had managed to set up in between everything else they did that afternoon.

“Wow! You’re going to have girls falling over themselves to go out with you – you’re turning into a real cutie!”

Zven’s smile faltered a little bit at that, he wasn’t interested in what girls might think. To try and hide his disappointment he gestured for Schneider to go into the kitchen where they would have their dinner before adjourning to the living room for their ‘Doom’ rematch. He’d already set out placemats and cutlery ready.

“Would you prefer beer or something else to drink while we’re eating?”

“Tea or coffee please. Let’s save the beer for later.”

Zven prepared their drinks and set the kettle to boil while he checked on the casserole. Deciding that it was ready, he put on oven gloves and removed the pot from the oven, placing it on a heat resistant mat on the table. He took the lid off and set it aside while he served out portions for both of them. Next he served out mashed potato from a pan on the gas rings. Using a scoop, he poured some of the casserole liquid onto their meals in place of gravy, to moisten the potato. He set the pots to one side of the sink for washing later, and finished making their drinks, setting the hot mugs down on coasters so they wouldn’t mark the table. 

Schneider waited for Zven to sit down before tucking in. “This is delicious! Maybe you should look for a job in a restaurant or catering – you certainly have a knack for cooking.”

“You think so? I used to help mum out with cooking before… well…you know. Till used to like the doughnuts I made from time to time – it’s a wonder he didn’t sink when he swam he’d eat so many in one sitting!”

“I’d love to try them myself sometime, could you make me some?”

Zven smiled. “Of course! I’ll need to go shopping for the ingredients first, and check that Paul has a suitable fryer too, but when that’s sorted I’ll be happy to make some.”

Schneider was glad to see Zven looking happy again, the smile dropping from the younger man’s face earlier hadn’t escaped his notice, and it saddened him to think he’d caused Zven’s smile to disappear. He wasn’t certain what exactly it was that he’d said to cause that reaction, so he knew he’d have to watch carefully to get a better understanding of Zven’s emotions and responses.

They finished their meal charting amiably about what they’d both done that afternoon, and discussing other things that Zven might consider job-wise. 

“Of course, I’ve still to hear back from Paul about that possible job with Ollie’s employers before I apply for anything else, but I’ll probably not hear anything until after Paul wakes up tomorrow, that’s assuming he comes home tonight. I don’t think Ollie’s parents are ready for him to have his boyfriend sleep over yet, so I think Paul will be back later on.”

“Have the two of you discussed what will happen if he decides to bring Ollie here for the night? Will you be making yourself scarce in your room and putting earplugs in?” Schneider asked, curious.

“Er…no…that is, I imagine he won’t bring Ollie here overnight until after my bed’s been delivered. Although I could probably sleep on the sofa if he does…”

“Tell me you’re not sleeping on the floor in your room – that can’t be good for you!”

“Oh, I’m not – Paul and I share his bed!”

“What!? You’re kidding me, right?”

Zven shook his head, confused as to why Schneider would be angry at that idea. 

“No, I’m telling the truth! It’s a big bed, plenty of room for us both, and we have a bolster pillow down the middle so we don’t crowd each other accidentally… It’s not like we’re having sex or anything, we don’t like each other like that, not to mention there’s Ollie…”

“Does Ollie know about your sleeping arrangement? I imagine he can’t be too happy about it…”

“I don’t know, you’d have to ask Paul – and it’s only until my bed gets delivered, there’s been some kind of delay at the suppliers. Why does it matter anyway?” Zven asked, a hurt expression on his face.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, it shouldn’t matter – it’s not really my business. It’s just that… I’ve come to care about you, and I’d hate to think that anyone might try to take advantage of you.”

“Oh…well, Paul’s not like that. He’s not interested in me as anything other than a friend, he’s head over heels in love with Ollie, you should see him whenever someone mentions his name, he’s like a cute puppy or something…”

“You’ll let me know if anyone does try anything on with you, won’t you? And if Paul does want to bring Ollie home at some point, there’s a guest bedroom at my house, complete with a bed, you can stop over at mine to let them have some privacy.”

“I will, and thank you.” 

He got up to clear the pots off the table. He was glad he hadn’t said anything about the kisses he and Paul had shared during their experiment, or waking up to find Paul hugging him. He had a feeling that Schneider might not be quite so understanding about those. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he moved to get a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge ready for their game night.

Schneider was mentally kicking himself, he wasn’t doing a good job of being mindful of Zven’s emotions, but then again the stab of jealousy he’d felt when hearing that the two guitarists were sharing a bed, albeit innocently, had come as something as a surprise to himself. Was it possible that he was falling for the kid? His rational side was telling him that getting involved with someone with so much emotional baggage was the last thing he should be doing, be a friend, sure, but otherwise stay well clear. However, his heart wasn’t in the mood to listen, apparently.

He followed the young man into the lounge and sat on the sofa next to him, beer in one hand, game controller in the other.


	12. What's in a name?

They played late into the night, Zven coming quite close to beating Schneider due to the older man’s distraction as he considered his own feelings. He’d not had a relationship in a couple of years due to his last one ending badly, he found it difficult to let anyone get close, yet somehow this young man had got past the wall he’d carefully constructed around his heart.

The young man in question was currently asleep on the sofa, chest rising and falling gently with each breath. Schneider had turned the games console off, changing the channel to show tv instead, and was doing his best to tidy up quietly so as not to disturb Zven. He cleared the room of empty beer bottles and set them aside for recycling, and binned the empty crisp packets. He settled himself into the chair to wait up until Paul returned home from his date.

He must’ve dosed off because the next thing he knew he was jerked back into consciousness by Zven calling out in his sleep.

“Please, no….not again! I didn’t do anything wrong…Stop! Please someone - help me!”

A scream, slightly muffled by the cushion on the sofa, followed. Schneider was out of his chair in an instant and moving to put Zven in an upright position while he tried to wake him.

“Zven! Wake up! You’re safe at home!”

He shook him repeatedly until the younger man opened his eyes. Schneider could tell that Zven was still in a state of panic when he woke, looking every inch like the frightened teenager he must have been five years ago when the Stasi had their hands on him.

“You were having a nightmare. You’re safe now baby boy, the men who hurt you are dead, there’s no need to be afraid any more.”

Zven latched tightly on to him, sobbing uncontrollably, his whole body shaking. Schneider had one arm wrapped around Zven, the other holding the young man’s head against his chest, thumb gently caressing Zven’s wet cheek. He rocked him slowly, murmuring words of comfort, gradually calming the young man down. Eventually Zven’s tears subsided, and he was able to properly register what Schneider had said. He looked up at the taller man’s face, and between sniffs spoke quietly.

“You know what happened to me…what they did to me?”

Schneider nodded. “Yes, liebchen, I found your file, and I’m so sorry you were put through that ordeal. It should never have happened to you… or anyone else for that matter. But they got their comeuppance, you don’t have to worry about them any more.”

He kissed Zven’s forehead and wiped his tears from his cheeks with his thumb, still keeping the young man close. Zven sighed deeply and tried to steady his emotions. Schneider thought that he’d fallen asleep in his arms, he was so still and quiet, until he spoke again, timidly.

“You must think I’m weak and pathetic – it seems every time I’m with you I end up crying my eyes out… I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again…”

Schneider pulled back slowly and held Zven’s face between both hands so that the younger man could see the truth in his eyes as he spoke.

“Don’t ever think that! You are the strongest person I know, baby boy. To have suffered as much as you have, to have endured the hardships for years after that as you have, I’m not sure I’d have been able to cope if I’d have been in your place. And to be trying so hard to get your life back, I’m proud of you sweetheart. You’ve got the heart of a lion…”

“You really think so? I don’t feel like it.” Zven replied, in a subdued tone.

“Yes. You’re Zven the lion-heart - the bravest person in all Berlin.”

“Lion-heart?”

“Yeah, you’ve heard of ‘Richard the lionheart’, former King of England, haven’t you?”

“And he was a brave king?”

Schneider took a moment to regard the other man. 

“So legend has it. Now I come to think of it, Richard… That name suits you. You were wanting to change it, what about Richard as an option?”

Zven rolled the name around in his head, thinking about how it sounded, and whether he could get used to being called by it every day.

“I like it, yes. Will you help me with the paperwork again?”

“Of course, I will. I’ll unearth the forms in the morning. Right now, though, I think you should try and get some sleep. Do you want to go upstairs to bed? I can sit up and wait for Paul to get back.”

The younger man shook his head. “Would you mind if we cuddle on the sofa for a bit? I find it difficult to fall asleep again after a nightmare when I’m on my own.”

Schneider smiled at him.

“If you think it might help…”

Zven moved so that he was on his side, back up against the sofa’s back cushions, leaving room for Schneider to lie down on the sofa, albeit with his legs sticking out over the arm at the end opposite his head. Once he was as comfortable as he could get, Zven shifted so that he could rest against Schneider, head tucked under the older man’s chin, one arm draped casually across his torso.

“Comfy?” Schneider asked.

“Mmm…” Zven replied as an affirmative. He felt reassured by the other’s presence, his warm body made for a great pillow, and his scent was pleasant. Schneider wrapped both arms loosely round him.

“Close your eyes, little one, I’ll look after you while you sleep.”

 

Zven fidgeted slightly before finally settling, and despite thinking that it would take some time to fall asleep again, he was soon back in dreamland, only this time his dreams were far more pleasurable.

Despite being only a few years older than Zven, Schneider felt an almost-paternal protectiveness towards him. It seemed as though when Zven was in a frightened or anxious state he reverted to a younger version of himself, perhaps younger even than the teenager he’d been when his world had been torn apart. Schneider wanted to make sure that no-one, not even himself – especially not himself – took advantage of his vulnerability.

As part of his police training Schneider had taken courses on psychology, as a result of which he thought that addressing ‘young Zven’, when the younger man was in a distressed state, and allaying his fears was the best approach for helping him. Once the ‘inner child’ was calm, he could bring the adult version forward to deal with whatever needed to be done for him to be able to function normally. Addressing Zven as ‘baby boy’ and ‘little one’ hopefully put Schneider into the role of protector in the younger man’s psyche. He would continue monitoring Zven’s reactions and would be ready to adapt if necessary.

*

Schneider had intended to stay awake until Paul returned, and to carry Zven to his bed before returning to his own home, but between the beer he’d drunk and the pleasant, warm weight of the young man pressed up against his chest, he drifted off. It was some time after midnight when he felt a light touch on his shoulder followed by Paul whispering in his ear.

“Hey, Schneider! Is everything okay?”

Trying not to move too much he whispered back.

“Zven fell asleep on the sofa and had a bad nightmare. Cuddling him seems to calm him down.”

“Yeah, I discovered that too. Do you want me to help move him so you can go home?”

Schneider glanced down at the young man sleeping peacefully in his arms, and decided he wanted to stay with him a little longer.

“No, it would be a shame to wake him while he’s like this. I don’t need to be home anytime soon, it’s my weekend off. I’m fine to stay all night if needs be.”

“Okay…would you like me to bring you a blanket or pillow?”

“Yes to the blanket, I can make do with the cushions instead of a pillow though.”

Paul gave him a thumbs up, disappearing briefly then returning with a blanket which he draped over Zven and Schneider.

“Good night Schneider.”  
“Night, Paul.”

Paul turned the television and all but one lamp off in the lounge before he headed off to bed. He left the lamp on the landing switched on in case either of the two men downstairs needed the bathroom during the night, then he quickly cleaned his teeth and combed his hair. He shuffled the short length of the landing to his bedroom door, undressed and got into bed, musing at the turn of events that led to the tableau on the floor below.

He reached over and turned off his lamp, turning his thoughts to his own new relationship with Ollie, and slipped into unconsciousness within minutes.

*

When Zven woke up he was momentarily confused about why he was nestled between Schneider and the back of the sofa, but as he slowly came round he started to remember. He looked up at the sleeping face of the man who had repeatedly calmed him down over the last few weeks. He’d gone from being someone Zven was scared of to someone he trusted enough to cuddle with. He studied the older man’s face, the long eyelashes closed over his startling blue eyes, the high cheekbones, his strong jawline and the stubble forming there and along Schneider’s top lip.

Zven’s eyes focused on Schneider’s lips, and he began wondering what it would be like to kiss them. He shifted position slightly, and found himself looking directly into Schneider’s open eyes.

“Good morning Zven…or should I start calling you Richard?” Schneider asked, yawning. “Did you sleep well?”

Zven nodded, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, aware of how closely they were pressed against each other, especially as he realised that he was hard. Schneider, to his utter horror, apparently picked up on his discomfort and the reason for it.

“It’s okay baby boy, it’s perfectly normal to wake up with a stiffy, don’t worry about it. If you moved this blanket off us, you’d see I’ve got one too! But if you want, I can move so you can get up if it would make you feel more comfortable…”

Schneider swung his legs down towards the floor and moved himself into a sitting position, groaning at the aches from laying in an awkward manner for so long, which made Zven feel guilty as a result. 

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

“Don’t be. I had the opportunity to move and go home, but chose not to. You looked so angelic when you were sleeping, I didn’t have the heart to disturb you.”

Zven followed Schneider’s lead and moved to sit upright next to him. The blanket slid off him to the floor prompting him to grab a cushion to cover his embarrassment, making Schneider bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, it was so cute.

“I’m going to take a leak, then I better get home. Apparently I have some paperwork to dig out. If you want to make a start on that name change application call me after lunch and we can go through it.”

He stood up then, fully aware that his own bulging trousers were at Zven’s eye-level, stretched, and headed off to the bathroom, leaving the younger man wondering what it was about Schneider that made him feel safe, horny, embarrassed, and comfortable all at the same time. Was Paul right about the possibility that Zven might be attracted to Schneider, and vice versa? Schneider had said that he cared for him, and the names he’d called him following his nightmare…

Schneider returned from the bathroom and picked up his jacket from the chair. He smiled at the sight of Zven still sitting where he’d left him, complete with cushion in his lap. He crouched down in front of Zven and gently took hold of the cushion, putting it to one side while being careful to maintain eye-contact.

“Don’t ever feel you need to hide yourself from me, I want you to be able to be yourself around me, whether you’re feeling happy or sad, scared or…well…” he grinned. “I’ll see you later…Richard…”

He stood up again, and made his way to the front door, with Zven staring after him until he disappeared out of sight. Zven waited until he heard the front door shut, and the latch click into place before he moved. He crept out of the lounge and up the stairs, thankful that Paul was fast asleep judging by the snores emanating from the bedroom. He slipped into the bathroom and shut the door, sliding the bolt into the locked position. 

His erection had started to subside while Schneider was upstairs, but when he’d crouched in front of him, then removed the cushion, it was back in full force. He quickly undid his jeans and slipped his boxer shorts down freeing it from its confinement. Standing next to the bath he took himself in hand and started stroking himself, slowly at first, then harder and faster, his eyes closed and his thoughts on the sight of Schneider low down on the floor in front of him. He came with a groan in an embarrassingly short amount of time, not surprising considering it had been months now since he’d last had sex of any sort. 

He tucked himself away again after a quick rinse and towel dry, then turned the shower head on to wash away the evidence. He unbolted the door and poked his head out. Paul was still fast asleep, either that or he’d got a pig snorting loudly in the bedroom. He tiptoed softly into the bedroom and undressed down to his boxers before sliding under the covers. Paul shifted slightly in his sleep but didn’t wake up, which Zven was grateful for – at least he’d have some time to recover from his embarrassment before undergoing the third degree…


	13. Working Man

“Morning Paulchen, How was your date?”

Zven thought that if he went on the offensive, then Paul wouldn’t bring up how he discovered Zven and Schneider.

“It was great, really good… but we didn’t get anywhere near as intimate as Doom and you!” 

He thought wrong. 

“Despite how things might have appeared last night, nothing happened!”

“Uh-huh. And is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Paul asked, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“Never mind about me – what about your date? I want details!”

“We went to the restaurant, we ate, we talked, we went to a bar, we drank, we talked some more, we decided that we’re ready to move on to the next stage, we made out for a bit, we walked to his, we kissed goodnight, I came home, found you guys all cozy, and can we take a moment to discuss your hair?”

“Till took me to a friend of his to sort my hair out…don’t think I didn’t notice your comment about moving on to ‘the next stage’ – what exactly do you mean by that?”

For once it was Paul’s turn to be embarrassed, which made Zven feel a lot more gleeful than he was comfortable with.

“Um, well, I guess we mean blowjobs first…then moving on to…um…”

“Sex? Fucking? Shagging?” Zven enquired, with his own evil grin firmly in place.

“Yes! Alright! No need to go on!” Paul replied, his face turning an interesting shade of red. “So I was wondering…we were wondering if it’s possible for you to be out tomorrow night, maybe stay at Till’s?”

“You mean you don’t want me to join you in a threesome?” Zven asked with fake-hurt in his tone, and a pout to match.

“Um, no… it’s going to be awkward enough with it being the first time for us both, without adding you to the equation, no offence meant…”

“None taken. It’s fun watching you squirm though. Err… if it’s the first time for you both, have you decided who’s top and who’s bottom?”

“Not really…we thought we’d just see where the mood takes us.”

“You know about doing the right preparation, I take it?”

“I’ve got lube and condoms, I imagine it’s pretty much the same as when you have sex with a woman really, just a little…tighter…”

Zven rolled his eyes.

“Try a lot tighter. Whoever’s topping needs to stretch the other open, generally using fingers. If you find yourself wondering if you’ve used enough lube, my advice would be to use more. Trust me on that!”

Paul looked positively mortified. “Does it hurt much?”

“If you don’t prepare properly it will, and even if you do prepare properly it will still sting at first, but once you adjust, you should find it very pleasurable. And before you even think about asking, no – I will not demonstrate it for you! I suggest that before your date tomorrow you might want to try it on yourself first. Might be best to do that in the bathtub so you can clean yourself and the bathroom easily afterwards.”

Deciding he needed to change the subject, Paul remembered some of the conversation he had with Ollie.

“By the way, I asked Ollie about work, he says if you meet him at this address….” He found a slip of paper he tucked in his wallet the previous night and passed it to Zven, “at 9am tomorrow, then there’s a cash in hand job available for the week…”

“Nope, I’m not giving your boyfriend a hand-job every day for a week.” Zven announced deadpan.

Paul squeaked. “Not a hand-job! I wouldn’t ask you to….Oh, very funny!” he groused, as Zven failed to hold his laughter back any longer, holding his sides while doubling up, rendered temporarily incapable of speech he was laughing so hard.

When he’d regained some semblance of control, he decided he better ask a few questions about his potential job.

“So, did Ollie say what I should take with me?”

“Take your ID card, and I was going to say wear some old clothes, but I think they might provide overalls. Oh, and do yourself a packed lunch. I don’t think there are any cafes nearby. Apart from that, just turn up, Ollie will make sure you’re okay.”

“Overalls? Did he say what I’d be doing?”

“Well, Ollie’s a plumber, but he’s working on a building site. I think they’re just wanting someone who could give a helping hand fetching and carrying, assisting with installing pipes and stuff – nothing that you would need previous experience to do.”

“Okay, sounds easy enough. I just wanted to know what I might be expected to do. Oh… do I need to tell them I’ll be changing my name soon?”

Paul shrugged “You could, but I don’t think it will matter to be honest. Does that mean you’ve finally decided on your new name then?”

“Yeah, it’s ‘Richard’. Schneider’s helping me with the paperwork later. What do you have planned for today?”

“Not much – I promised my parents I’d visit them this afternoon once I’ve finished work,, and I’ll go to the supermarket afterwards. Did you make a list of what you wanted me to pick up?”

“Yep, it’s on the fridge door. I could always do the grocery shopping this morning before I go to Schneider’s, if you like – it would give you more time with your family.”

“If you’re sure it’s no bother? That would really help, thanks! I’ll scribble down a few things I need and leave some money with the list.” He looked at his clock. “I better get up and take a shower. Any chance you could run downstairs and put the kettle on for me?”

Zven nodded, and threw back the covers. He padded barefoot out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen. A minute later the boiler stirred to life as Paul turned on the hot water upstairs. He reached up into the cupboard above the kettle to retrieve the coffee and sugar jars, and prepared the drinks. While he waited for the water to boil he drifted into the lounge in order to assess how much time he needed to set aside for tidying up. He was surprised to discover that most of it had been done already. 

He returned to the kitchen just as the kettle switched itself off, and poured the water into both mugs, stirring them as he did so. Setting the kettle down, he moved to the fridge and picked up the milk carton, pouring in different amounts to suit their different tastes. He was still debating what to have for breakfast when Paul entered, wearing a towelling robe and damp hair sticking up in all directions.

Zven smirked. “Copycat!”

“Huh?”

The younger man pointed at Paul’s head. “Your hair…”

Paul put a hand to his head and realised what Zven meant. He patted his hair down flat, grinning. “Well, it looked cool on you, but I didn’t have to pay to get mine the same way!”

Zven decided that sticking out his tongue was the only appropriate response to that.

“Did you happen to tidy up when you got home last night? I was expecting the lounge to be messier than I found it just now…”

“Have you ever seen me tidy up when drunk? Or when sober for that matter?”

“You’re right, stupid question really. I guess that means Schneider tidied up then while I was asleep.”

“Be sure to give him a thank you kiss when you see him!”

Paul dodged out of the way before Zven could punch him for that comment. Grabbing a box out of a cupboard, Zven poured himself a bowl of cereal, adding a splash of milk.

“As you’ve been cheeky, you can get your own breakfast – I’m taking mine upstairs and returning to bed!”

Zven picked up his mug of coffee, and balancing it along with the bowl in one hand, he used his free hand to open the kitchen door and departed in the direction of the stairs. Paul took a moment to consider his options before bunging a few slices of bread in the toaster, and dug out the butter and strawberry jam.

*

“Come on in Zve… sorry, Richard. I’m just finishing my lunch, so you can either wait for me in the lounge or join me in the kitchen, whatever you prefer. Would you like a drink?”

Zven took his jacket off and hung it up, then turned to reply to Schneider. “I could do with a hot drink, it may be spring but it’s still quite nippy out, especially when the wind blows. I could have done with putting gloves on while I was out shopping earlier, my fingers were blue by the time I got home!”

“If you don’t mind waiting I’ll make you one when I’ve finished eating, I don’t want my food to get any colder than it already is.”

“I can make one for myself, I think I can remember where you keep things from last time I was here, if you’ve no objections?”

“Make yourself at home. If you can’t find something just ask.” Schneider said, as he sat back down at the table to tuck back in to his food.

“Would you like me to make one for you too?”

“Tea, please – white, one sugar.”

Zven sat down at the kitchen table opposite Schneider once he’d made their drinks. He wondered if he should make small talk while Schneider ate, or just sit quietly…

“So, did Paul tell you how his date with Ollie went last night?” Schneider asked in between mouthfuls.

He seemed to have an uncanny knack of knowing just what was on Zven’s mind, which left the younger man debating with himself if that was a good thing or somewhat unnerving.

“Um, yeah. Apparently things are going really well, in fact, following on from what you asked me last night, he asked me if I could ask Till if I could sleep at theirs tomorrow night because they want to take things to ‘the next stage’ as he called it.”

“That’s a bit fast! Then again, they have known each other for a few years, but I’m still a little bit surprised. Have you spoken to Till yet? Don’t forget you can stay here any time you want.”

“I haven’t, no. I was unsure what time I’d be getting back from working with Ollie.”

“Oh, you’ve got the job, then?”

“Well, he’s told me where to turn up to in the morning, and he’ll show me what to do.”

“As I’ve tomorrow off as well as today, I can pick you up when you’re done and bring you back here. It’ll probably be easier than arranging things with Till and Flake, especially with Till’s shift work. That’s if you’re comfortable with that arrangement?”

“Like you say, that’s probably the simplest solution. I don’t want to put you to any trouble, though. You’ve already done so much for me recently.”

“Honestly, it’s no trouble at all. It will be nice to have company for a change.”

He stood up and cleared his breakfast pots away ready for washing.

“Come on, let’s get your paperwork sorted, Richard.”

Zven grinned, he liked it that Schneider was already calling him by his new name.

*

Schneider pulled up at the kerb, next to building site that Zven and Ollie had been working that day. Ollie was nowhere in sight, but Zven was leaning against a wall, with a few unfamiliar men standing around him. Schneider was immediately on his guard, but when Zven saw his car he gestured towards it, and the men parted to let him pass, either shaking his hand or giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Schneider let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and offered a hand gesture of greeting to the men who had nodded in his direction. Zven opened the passenger side door and got in to the car.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, why? Oh – you mean those guys? They’re some of Ollie’s workmates. They offered to stay with me until you arrived, as they knew Ollie is going on a date tonight, and they wanted to make sure I was safe. Some idiots had been trying to hassle me earlier, calling me ‘pretty boy’ amongst other things. They said that they look after their own, and that any friend of Ollie’s is a friend of theirs.”

“Remind me to buy them a drink sometime as a thank you. I’m glad you’re getting along with new people.”

Zven smiled, waving goodbye to the gathering of builders as Schneider started nosing the car out into the flow of traffic.

“They were really friendly and welcoming, and patient with me when I didn’t know what things were that they asked for. I’ve learnt a lot today already.”

He leant back into his seat, putting his head back against the seat rest and closing his eyes.

“You look exhausted, not to mention scruffy! I think I better run you a bath after dinner, or my nice white sheets will turn black overnight!”

“Can you throw in a massage too? Muscles I didn’t know I had are aching!”

Schneider laughed softly. “Anything else, baby boy? Extra pillows, fluffy towels, caviar on your toast in the morning?”

Zven cracked one eye open. “No, the massage will be enough, thank you.”

“Good to know!” Schneider replied, amused.

Zven stuck his tongue out cheekily, then resumed his quiet state of rest. Before long, the car was being reversed onto Schneider’s driveway, and the engine turned off. Schneider undid his seatbelt and opened his door. He noticed that Zven hadn’t moved to get out and realised the younger man had nodded off during the short trip. He got out and shut his door, making the car rock slightly. 

The noise and movement woke Zven, who blinked up wearily at Schneider who was opening the passenger door. 

“Come on, Reesh, time for dinner, then a bath and bed for you. I’ll get your bag.”

He held out an arm, to give Zven a helping hand up and out, then reached down into the footwell to pick up Zven’s overnight bag. He followed the young man to the side door of the house, unlocked the door and nudged Zven to go in.

“Hands washed, young man, before dinner. I’ll put your bag in your room, then I’ll come back to dish the food out.”

Schneider shut and locked the side door and walked through the doorway leading to the hall. Zven shuffled over to the kitchen sink, and turned the hot water tap on to wash his hands. He added cold water to the mix and splashed some on his face, patting his face dry with the hand towel. This turned out to be a mistake, as he left dirty streaks on the towel. As he was trying to think what to do about it, Schneider returned to the kitchen. He took one look at the towel and at Zven’s horrified dirt-streaked face and burst out laughing.

“You look like the poster boy for that classic James Cagney film I saw recently…”

Zven just looked at him with a perplexed expression.

“‘Angels with Dirty Faces’!” Schneider explained. “God, you’re adorable. Give that here, I’ll put it in the washer. Sit down, let’s get you fed and watered.”

He shook his head, smiling to himself as he added the towel to the wash load he’d put in the machine earlier, and set the timer so it would start in the morning.


	14. Chez Schneider

Zven had tucked in to his meal with gusto, he hadn’t realised how hungry he was until Schneider had placed the casserole in front of him. He almost burned his tongue in his haste to shovel down his food.

After dinner Schneider showed him to the guest bedroom where he’d taken Zven’s bag, then into the bathroom to point out which towels had been set aside for his guest. Because the young man looked so tired Schneider suggested that perhaps a shower might be a better idea than a bath, as he wouldn’t want Zven to fall asleep in the bath and accidentally drown. 

Reluctantly Zven agreed, he’d been looking forward to a long soak, but unless Schneider was willing to sit in the bathroom while he bathed – Zven had toyed with the idea of asking him, but hadn’t plucked up the courage – what the older man said made sense. So, he stood under the stream of hot water, massaging shampoo into his hair and scalp, and applying body wash liberally so that he was as squeaky clean as possible.

Once he was dry, he slipped on the pyjamas he’d brought with him, and cleaned his teeth. Checking he’d not missed any dirt in the mirror, he hung up the towels on the heated rails and opened the door. Schneider had just made it upstairs after washing the dinner pots, and smiled at Zven.

“Feel better for that?”

“Yes, thank you. Um, I was wondering if you have a spare alarm clock? I’ve got to be back at the building site tomorrow morning at the same time. We get extra pay for Sundays apparently, so I don’t want to miss out.”

“I’ve only got one alarm clock, but don’t worry – I’ll make sure you’re there on time. If you need anything else, I’m just down the hall, just come in and ask. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Richard.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

Zven shuffled into his room, pushing the door partially closed. He pulled back the corner of the covers and got into bed. The mattress was firm, but not too hard, and the pillows were comfortable too, but after almost an hour of tossing and turning he still couldn’t get to sleep. He stared at the ceiling, trying to count sheep, but still sleep eluded him. In the end he gave in and sat up.

He trod barefoot to the bedroom door, down the hall and stepped silently into Schneider’s room. The older man appeared to be asleep, laying on one side facing away from the door. After a moment’s hesitation he stepped up to the edge of the empty half of the bed, and climbed in beside Schneider. He placed his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.

Feeling the mattress shift beneath him, Schneider turned over and found himself face to face with Zven. 

“Trouble sleeping, baby boy?”

Zven nodded, his hair making the crisp cotton pillow case rustle. 

“Want to cuddle for a bit?”

Again a nod, Zven’s eyes open now and fixed on Schneider’s face.

“Scoot closer then, little one.”

Schneider lifted the covers up a bit to make it easier for Zven to get closer. When the young man was nearer Schneider lowered his arm back down and wrapped it around Zven’s waist, spooning him from behind. Zven leaned back against him and laced his fingers with Schneider’s. The older man smiled behind him, and rubbed his thumb against Zven’s gently, reassuring him that he was okay with the situation.

He soon fell asleep again, smile still fixed on his face. In his arms, Zven felt much more relaxed, and gently drifted off.

*

When Schneider woke, he was lying on his back, Zven snuggled up to him with his arm resting on Schneider’s chest. Schneider took hold of Zven’s hand and brought it up to his lips, brushing his palm with a kiss. Zven stirred with the contact, and looked up sleepily at the other man.

“Good morning, liebchen.” Schneider greeted him, softly.

“Hey… I hope you didn’t mind me joining you last night?”

“Of course not, you can share my bed whenever you want.”

That was another suggestion from Schneider about how much he liked Zven, he was finally admitting to himself that he had definitely fallen in love with the young man. He wanted to say as much to Zven, but was painfully aware that the kid was still struggling with his own emotions, good and bad, and didn’t want to say or do anything that might scare him off.

“Is it time to get up?”

“Not yet. Unless you want to…”

“What time is it?”

Schneider looked over at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

“It’s just coming up to five o’clock. We went to bed pretty early last night, so that explains why we’re awake so early.”

“I was just thinking… do you know any self -defence moves?”

“Yes. Why? Are you worried about the people who bothered you coming back?”

“A little bit, yes. I know the crew backed me up yesterday, but what if they return when I’m alone? I used to know a few wrestling moves, but I’m not sure if I remember them whether they’ll be of any use.”

“I can teach you some defensive moves, then. If you’re feeling rested, we could make a start before breakfast, if you like?”

“Before?”

“Well, if we’re going to be tripping and throwing each other around, it might not be advisable when we’ve just eaten!”

Zven pulled a face, realising what Schneider meant.

“Okay, but can we just have a few more minutes before we get up?”

“You’re quite the snuggle-bunny, aren’t you?” Schneider asked, affectionately.

“Mmm…I could stay here all day…” Zven replied, yawning.

“That sounds wonderful, but somebody’s got work in a few hours!”

Zven groaned, burying his face against Schneider’s shoulder, who smirked at his reaction. When it looked like Zven might be falling asleep again, he gave him a gentle nudge.

“Come on, up time!”

Another groan. An evil thought crossed Schneider’s mind, which he acted on – tickling Zven all over from his neck down to his waist, making Zven yelp and writhe until he was short of breath and calling out for mercy.

“Stop! No more, please! I promise I’ll get up!”

“You better, as there’s plenty more where they came from!”

As he sat up Zven pouted like a petulant child. “Don’t like you any more…” he sulked.

“Aww, poor baby Reesh…!” Schneider teased as he got up himself. “Get your skinny butt down to the lounge, we can use the cushions as a crash mat.”

They descended the stairs, and marched into the lounge. Schneider grabbed all the cushions from the sofa and comfy chairs and threw them on the floor to create a soft-landing area. He then made Zven do some stretches to warm up before they started. 

He began by teaching Zven how to land properly in the event he got thrown to the floor, before teaching him various blocking and escape manoeuvres which they practiced on each other a few times.

“Now, if they’ve managed to get you pinned to the floor, you can get out of it by doing this…”

At this point, Schneider was laying in a prone position with Zven holding him down. With a couple of quick moves he threw Zven off himself and gained the upper hand.

“Did you see how I did that? Okay, so …you lie down, I’m going to hold you down in the same way and attempt to kiss you, and you need to throw me off. Ready?”

It took a couple of attempts for Zven to get it right. Just to make sure, Schneider made him do it again, so that he could be sure Zven had mastered that move. As with the previous attempts, Zven was laid on his back, arms pinned either side of his head, with Schneider laying on top of him lengthwise, Zven’s legs parted with Schneider’s between them. The older man leaned forward to force a kiss on Zven, expecting to be thrown off before he managed to get too close… and was met with soft lips moving against his own.

Schneider pulled back a fraction, and gave a mild rebuke, his voice suddenly hoarse. “You’re supposed to be defending yourself from my attack…”

“I don’t want to…” Zven replied, holding Schneider’s gaze steadily.

That was all the permission Schneider needed, leaning back down and resuming the unexpected kiss, pinning Zven’s arms either side of his head still. He deepened the kiss, his tongue gaining entry to Zven’s mouth, exploring it eagerly, then shifting slightly to nuzzle along the younger man’s jawline before returning his attention to Zven’s lips. 

He broke off again, both of them breathing heavily, Schneider’s boxer shorts feeling restrictive, and a very obvious bulge pressing against him through the thin fabric of Zven’s pyjamas.

“Are you sure this is what you want, I know that you’ve thought of yourself as straight despite everything? I don’t want for either us to do anything we might later regret, and end up hurting each other…”

“The part of me that was Zven was straight, that’s true. But I’ve changed, and the person I am now – Richard – wants to be with you.”

Schneider held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded. “I want to be with you too, but we don’t have time for anything more this morning. We need to get you to work on time, which means getting breakfast, and dressed. We can discuss our relationship later.”

Zven appeared disappointed that they weren’t going any further at that moment, but he was eager to make Schneider proud of him, and knew that going to work formed an important part of his development. Schneider got up off his hands and knees and held out his hands to help Zven up off the cushions. Once Zven was on his feet, Schneider cupped his chin in one hand and pressed a gentle kiss on Zven’s lips.

“Go and get showered and dressed baby boy, I’ll have your breakfast ready for when you come back down.”

He released Zven and nudged him towards the door. As the younger man started ascending the stairs, Schneider picked up the assortment of cushions and returned them to their proper places on the sofa and chairs, willing his own erection to subside so that he could concentrate on other things.

He walked the short distance down the hallway to the kitchen, grabbed a frying pan and adding a splash of oil as he turned on the heat. Next he grabbed bacon, sausages, and eggs from the fridge, and prepared them for frying. He reached back into the fridge to grab the pat of butter in its dish, setting it on the table with a knife. Bread was next, taken from the bread bin kept in the cool larder. He popped four slices in the toaster, but didn’t set it going- that would wait a while for when everything else was almost cooked. 

He returned his attention to the pan, where the oil was heating up nicely, rolling it from side to side to make sure the entire inner surface of the pan was coated and hot enough before adding the food. When the oil was spitting hot, he added the sausages, and a few bacon rashers, which all started hissing. Then he remembered he’d not put on the small oven to heat the plates, and keep the first lot of food hot while the rest were cooked.

Schneider was onto cooking the second lot of bacon along with the eggs when Zven reappeared looking fresh and clean. As he wasn’t displaying any awkwardness when walking, Schneider assumed that he’d taken a more ‘hands-on’ approach to dealing with his hard-on while in the shower.

“Can I help with anything?”

“Yeah – can you put the toaster on, then make the drinks, please?”

“Sure.”

Schneider snuck a sideways glance at Zven as he set about his tasks. He marvelled at how relaxed the young man was now, in his company – a far cry from their first meeting, and their first outing together when he inadvertently scared Zven. Smiling to himself, he continued making their breakfast.


	15. Solutions

Over the course of the next few weeks, Zven spent an increasing amount of time at Schneider’s house as Paul and Ollie’s relationship flourished. The bed that Paul had ordered had finally been delivered, so on nights when Ollie wasn’t stopping over, Zven would sleep in the spare room, as sharing the bed with Paul felt decidedly wrong now. That is, Zven tried to sleep in the new bed.

“I just can’t seem to sleep in that bed, it’s not that it’s uncomfortable - it’s a really good bed, exactly the same make and model as the one in Paul’s room – I just think that maybe it’s because I’ve grown used to sharing with someone…” he complained to Schneider after work one evening, after the other man had commented on how exhausted Zven looked.

Paul and Ollie had told their other friends about their relationship after one of their gigs, as Till and Flake were confused as to why Zven would be going home with Schneider instead of Paul. Paul knew that something was definitely developing between his sometime-lodger and their drummer, but that it wasn’t ready to be made common knowledge, so in an uncharacteristic move he’d told them that he and Ollie wanted complete privacy during their burgeoning relationship, and, as three is often a crowd, had asked if Zven could stay with Schneider.

They knew the two men were getting along better now, thanks to the time spent sorting all of Zven’s paperwork. Zven was grateful for the intervention by his friend, then embellished it with the news of his impending name change. Till and Flake accepted the explanations without further thought, and the subject was dropped.

“There’s a simple solution for your problem – why don’t you move in with me fully? Half of your stuff is here already anyway. You can still have the separate bedroom in case you want time alone at any point, I’ll not enter there without permission, but I hope you trust me enough to know I won’t touch you anywhere you don’t want me to when we’re in bed together.”

Despite his eagerness for more when they’d kissed for the first time, the next occasion that they started kissing, Zven had frozen then shoved Schneider away roughly when the older man had moved his hands below Zven’s waistband, as a torrent of bad memories came unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He’d locked himself in the bathroom and it took a long time before Schneider had managed to coax him out.

He’d spent half that night in his room, unable to sleep, and cursing himself for his bad reaction. Just before dawn he managed to pluck up the courage to slip into bed with Schneider. That morning they had a long talk about what was and what wasn’t acceptable to them both, with Schneider promising not to touch Zven lower than his waist until Zven gave his express permission. The younger man promised in return that he would tell Schneider whenever he was feeling uneasy about something so that they could both deal with it.

As a result, although they slept together whenever Zven had stayed over, they had not yet progressed beyond kissing and cuddling. It was a source of frustration for them both, but they had agreed on trying to slowly desensitise Zven to being touched in his more intimate areas by Schneider lowering his hands inch by inch, getting gradually lower on a daily basis. They’d got to the point where Schneider was able to squeeze Zven’s buttocks with only a slight jump in response, and could place his hands on Zven’s inner thighs and just above his groin with only a minor amount of muscles tensing up.

They’d manage to work out that the source of the problem was in Zven’s subconscious. As he’d been ‘becoming’ Richard, the events of his past had been compartmentalised as having happened to ‘Zven’, making ‘Richard’ a virgin for all intents and purposes. Meanwhile ‘Zven’ had all the mental and emotional baggage from his being raped by the Stasi officers, and ‘Zven’ would, on occasion, subconsciously associate Schneider, as a police officer, with the Stasi. Then there was the small matter of his time as a male prostitute and the various memories that brought up when he’d been triggered, although those were mercifully few thanks to the cocaine he’d been taking at the time.

Zven considered the suggestion, mulling it over while he chewed his food. 

“It solves part of the problem, but what happens when you’re working nights and I’m here alone?”

“I’ll put in a request to work more day shifts. It’s less money, but now you’re earning too, that won’t matter as much.”

Zven had ended up doing a total of three weeks work with Ollie and the builders, and had earned enough to pay back everything he owed Till and Flake (he’d saved the receipts for everything), with enough left over to pay the fee for his name-change. Once that temporary job was over, he’d been searching for something else, and was happy to get a job working at a record store, which he’d ostensibly got thanks to his knowledge of music from not just West Germany but the UK and USA too. The majority of the other applicants only knew music from East Germany and the USSR, which didn’t help with the huge influx of ‘new’ music, previously banned in the East.

The store owners were impressed with his knowledge of the different genres out there, and even more so when they discovered he could play some of the songs on guitar as well.

Zven scrunched his nose up as he continued thinking, weighing up all the possibilities.

“How soon can I move in?”

Schneider put down his cutlery and pushed his empty plate to one side.

“Whenever you want, baby. I want you all to myself, so the sooner the better.”

Zven smiled happily, and quickly finished his meal. He stood up, cleared the table ready to wash up in the morning – his day off – and pulled Schneider to his feet.

“How about tomorrow? You can help me pack when you finish work!”

“Help you pack? How much stuff have you got? You’ve only been home a few months!” Schneider asked, incredulously.

His question was met with a pout. “I just wanted your company while I got everything together.”

“Aww, baby, in which case I’d love to help. Just remember we’ve got things to do in the morning first, though.”

“Don’t want to!”

Schneider had to bite his cheek to stop himself from laughing at Zven’s petulant behaviour. He knew that Zven wasn’t fond of dentists – amongst numerous other things he’d learnt – so it had been a struggle to get him to agree to a check up in the first place. He suspected someone might be in an awkward mood in the morning, so he had promised a surprise would be waiting for him when he got back.

Zven’s face perked up at that. “What kind of surprise?”

“Well, if I told you that it wouldn’t be much of a surprise now, would it?”

“Guess not..” Zven mumbled.

“Now, get your cute butt up those stairs and into bed. You’ve got some sleep to catch up on.”

Zven offered him a mock salute then traipsed off, pace slowing as he climbed the stairs. Schneider shook his head ruefully and went about checking all doors and windows were locked before following the young man up to bed.

*  
The visit to the dentist went about as well as could be expected, with lots of sulking and defiance, then capitulation with the surprise being dangled as a reward. That was just to get Zven in the car. Getting him into the waiting room and subsequently the dentist chair had required something akin to blackmail.

Luckily Zven’s teeth were in generally good condition, and just needed a bit of a professional clean and polish. Schneider was just thankful that Zven didn’t try to bite the dentist’s hand when he came close with the electric powered equipment. 

The young man maintained a sullen silence all the way back to Schneider’s, his tongue occasionally exploring the newly polished teeth, grimacing whenever he encountered a trace of the mouth wash he’d been made to rinse his mouth with afterwards.

Schneider parked the car facing forwards, as he was working the afternoon shift and would have to leave within the hour. He got out and headed for their usual entrance, unlocking and opening the door. Turning his head, he noticed Zven hadn’t shifted from his seat. Rolling his eyes, Schneider walked up to the passenger door and opened it.

“Stop sulking and get inside, or you won’t get your surprise.” When the young man didn’t move adding, “And you won’t get to live here either, so you’ll have to stay with Till and Flake when Paul and Ollie are on date nights.”

That had the desired effect, Zven getting out of the car and stomping up the drive, scowling.  
Schneider sighed, and shook his head. He was crazy about the kid, but from time to time the kid drove him crazy, but he was worth the frustration, of that he was certain. He walked through the kitchen, and out into the hallway. He had expected to find Zven slumped on the sofa still being moody, but it was empty when he looked in. As he reached the bottom stair he heard the creak of Zven’s bedroom door being opened, he made a mental note to get some WD40 for the hinges to stop that from happening.

He waited on the first step, while Zven walked into the bedroom in full ‘strop-mode’….three…two…one…

“Eeeek!” A squeal of delight pierced the silence, followed by feet running to the top of the stairs. Zven’s face was half-hidden behind a very large, very cuddly teddy bear. “Is this for me?”

“Where did you find it?”

“On the bed, in my room…”

“Then it must be yours!” Schneider said with a wide smile. “I thought that you could cuddle it when I’m working nights, so you won’t feel lonely.”

He made his way to the top of the stairs and kissed Zven softly on the lips. “Do you like your surprise, baby boy?”

“I love it! Thank you! I always wanted a teddy bear, but that mean old git,” he was referring to his stepfather, “said only babies get soft toys and that I should grow up!”

Schneider was aware of that, he’d originally planned on giving Zven the bear for his birthday – he’d gone to the trouble of asking Till what the one thing was that the young Zven had really wanted as a child, but never got, knowing that he’d had a rough upbringing – but following his recent emotional wobble, which had Zven behaving as the frightened child that still hid inside him, Schneider decided to make the stuffed toy a reward for enduring something Zven had been dreading. Which meant of course that he needed to find something else for Zven’s birthday.

“Well, as you’re my baby boy, you’re allowed a teddy bear, so there’s no problem, is there?”

Zven was squeezing the bear tightly in his arms, a beautiful smile lighting up his face. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been grumpy all morning, Doomie, I just don’t like being poked and prodded by strangers.”

“I know sweetheart, and I’m sorry I’m making you do things like that, but you know I’m only making sure you’re at your best, don’t you? You were my brave little lion-heart in that big chair, I’m proud of you.”

He looked at his watch, an action which made Zven’s smile falter.

“Do you have to go to work? Can’t you stay here with us?”

Schneider smiled at the inclusion of the bear in that ‘us’. He’d definitely got that gift right at any rate.

“I wish I could baby, but you know I have to go, and why. But it’ll be this evening before you know it. Go and phone Paul, tell him about moving out, and go and spend some time with him. I’ll come pick you up from there when my shift finishes, and we can finish your packing together, okay?”

Zven nodded, eyes downcast. He took the teddy back into his room and placed it solemnly on the bed, its head resting on one of the pillows. When he returned to the landing he threw his arms around Schneider’s waist and buried his head against his chest. Schneider wrapped one arm around Zven’s back, and ran his hand through the young man’s hair affectionately. He tilted Zven’s chin up and gave him another kiss, deeper and more prolonged this time.

“Come on, angel. The sooner we get started, the sooner things will be over.”

He held him close, walking him down the stairs and down the hall to the phone. He dialled the number for Paul’s and handed the receiver to Zven when he heard it ringing at the other end. Schneider walked back into the kitchen to allow Zven some privacy, waiting for him to finish his call.

*

It was close to ten thirty when Schneider made it to Paul’s later that night. Zven let him in, looking slightly lost.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

“I didn’t get to spend much time with Paul, as he got called into work on some emergency or something, then as soon as we’d had dinner he was off out again with Ollie, leaving me all alone. Everything’s changing again and it’s making me feel weird.”

Schneider pulled him close for a hug.

“I know things have been changing a lot for you in the last few months, and that change can be scary. But change can also be good, can’t it? Things are better since Till found you again, aren’t they?”

Zven nodded, silently.

“And leaving ‘Zven’ behind and becoming ‘Richard’ will be good, don’t you think?”

“I hope so…”

“And what about being my baby boy?”

Zven sniffed.

“That’s definitely good, the best… especially when we…”

“Don’t push yourself too hard for that, if you’re thinking it’s what will please me – obviously it will, but I love my snuggle bunny too much to let him do something he’s not ready for…”

“You…l-love me?”

Schneider had said it without thinking, only now realising the potential consequences of uttering those heavily weighted words. Zven was looking up at him now with wide eyes, waiting for his response. He needed to get this right. He took Zven’s hand and led him into the lounge, sitting him down on his lap.

“I met you as ‘Zven’ and although we got off to a bad start, I soon became very fond of you, and before long I realised I was falling in love with you, and as you’ve continued to grow and change into this beautiful young man called ‘Richard’ I fell in love with you all over again. I can’t wait to spend my life with you – all of you – and I just hope you feel the same way about me. You’ve brought so much joy into my life without even trying, and without me knowing that it had been missing from my life. You’ve saved me from what would undoubtedly have become a very miserable existence. I can’t thank you enough for that. So yes, Richard Zven Kruspe, I do love you.”

Zven let out something vaguely akin to a squeak and threw his arms around Schneider’s neck, kissing his boyfriend all over his face until he was out of breath. Schneider laughed, delighting in the other’s obvious joy. 

“Do you think we should maybe go upstairs and get your things together?”

“Okay, but I don’t want to leave without thanking Paul properly, he should be home soon.”

“Alright baby, I guess we can stop a little longer, let’s get started.”

*

Around an hour later, Paul and Ollie returned to the house following their latest outing. They were having trouble keeping their hands off each other as they made their way upstairs, and nearly fell through the open door to Zven’s bedroom. Realising that the room was occupied, Paul tried making quiet shushing noises at Ollie who, thanks to a fair amount of alcohol, was far more animated than usual.

Inside the room, lit only by a bedside lamp, they could make out the shapes of Zven and Schneider snuggles together on the bed, fast asleep in each other’s arms. Ollie blinked in surprise- he’d never seen Schneider looking remotely interested in anyone – but here he was looking very cosy with possibly the last person in the world he thought would turn his head.

He turned to Paul. “Are they for real?” he whispered.

Paul flashed him a grin. “Yup. They’re in luuuuurve!” he giggled, clapping a hand over his mouth so as not to wake the couple on the bed. “But I don’t know if they’ve gone beyond that…” he gestured towards them, both fully clothed despite their close embrace.

The two late arrivals tiptoed on to the master bedroom, and similarly collapsed onto their bed, asleep in minutes.


	16. Birthday

“If we’re going camping, where’s the tent?” Zven asked, as he put his rucksack in the car’s boot.

“Don’t worry, that’s already been taken care of. Are you sure you’ve packed everything I said you might need?”

“Yes, look – I’ve ticked everything off as I put them in…”

Zven fished put a folded piece of paper with a list of items written in Schneider’s neat script and showed him the check marks he’d added. Schneider smiled, and closed the boot after he’d put in the final items he’d carried from the house next to the rucksacks.

“All right, baby, I just wanted to make sure before we set off, so we don’t have to turn back for anything.”

“I wish that the others had managed to get time off work so I could have had a proper birthday party with them.” Zven said, disappointment colouring his tone.

“I know sweetheart, but it couldn’t be helped. We’ll have a party for you when we get back, I promise. At least you get one of your wishes and get to spend a few days in the countryside.”

Schneider kissed him on the forehead and then nudged him towards the passenger side, before walking round to get in, himself. Once they were both buckled in he started the engine and they set off on their journey.

*

“Wow, this place looks amazing! Oh – they have horses! Can we go for a ride while we’re here?”

Schneider smiled as Zven pressed his face to the window, taking in everything the campsite had to offer. He followed the signposted driveway to the part of the site where their tent was pitched, having made arrangements earlier. He slowed their speed down to a crawl as they approached their tent.

“Hey, that car looks like Till’s… and that one opposite looks like Paul’s...” He looked at the registration plate, and his eyes widened, “…it IS Paul’s!”

Zven turned in his seat, to look at Schneider. “Did you know they’d managed to get the time off after all?”

Schneider laughed. “Of course! We’ve been arranging this for weeks, as a surprise for you!”

“So when they told me that they had other commitments and couldn’t come to ours for a party…”

“…they were telling the truth, just not the whole truth! Happy birthday, baby boy!”

Schneider parked the car next to Till’s and turned off the engine. Their four friends had been waiting for them in the larger of the two tents, and spilled out of it in order to greet the new arrivals. As soon as the handbrake was engaged, Zven unfastened his seatbelt and leapt out, running over to hug them all. Schneider got out at a more leisurely pace, and started unpacking the bags from the car, ready to move them into the tent.

Flake moved to assist him, as Till and Paul were busy taking turns fussing over Zven, with Ollie patiently waiting his turn. 

“Did you manage to get the cake here in one piece?” Schneider asked Flake, as they ducked under the rolled up canvas that formed the entrance to the large tent.

“Only just, you know how big a sweet tooth Till has – it got to the point where I considered locking him in the boot so he couldn’t get to it – I ended up appealing to his kink and ordering him as his Dom to leave it alone, or face severe punishment.”

Schneider smirked. “Knowing Till, I’m surprised that didn’t make him try harder!”

“Oh, that thought definitely crossed his mind, I could see it in his facial expression. We’ve taken the bedroom this side, so you two have the one on the left. I made Till inflate the airbeds ready for you in order to keep his mind off the cake. It’s a good job it’s Zven’s birthday tomorrow, I know Paul is aware there’s a cake too – I’m sure I found him searching for it earlier!”

“Thank you for taking care of it for me, if Zven had found it, I knew the secret would be out.”

Flake tossed the rolled-up sleeping bags he’d carried in onto the airbeds then stood aside for Schneider to place his and Zven’s rucksacks inside too, then the pair made their way back outside to rejoin the others. Till handed Flake a bottle of beer, and Ollie one to Schneider, as Paul and Zven had an animated discussion about a new guitar that had been delivered earlier that week to the shop Paul worked in.

As the afternoon turned to early evening Flake and Schneider worked together on cooking a meal for everyone on the portable gas stoves they’d brought. They served the portions out onto plastic plates, which they all balanced on laps or in one hand, using forks in the other, as they continued their conversations outside the main tent, everyone seated on folding camp chairs.

When the sun started dipping below the horizon, the group of friends dispersed – Paul and Ollie into their smaller two-berth tent across the gravel road from the larger tent, Till and Flake into their ‘bedroom’, Schneider and Zven into the other. Schneider pulled the zip enclosing them in the fabric compartment.

The floor was strong plastic sheeting that the fabric inner tent was stitched onto, so that the ‘room’ maintained its shape. The airbeds were laid lengthwise as the two men looked at them from the entrance.

“Let’s get the sleeping bags out of their packs and unroll them.” Schneider prompted Zven, who’d never camped before.

They knelt down on the airbeds and set to work. The sleeping bags had zips running down the entire length of one side and across the bottom. They laid them flat on top of the airbeds, then in a quiet voice, Schneider gave Zven a choice.

“You’ve got two options baby boy, we can either leave the bags as two individual ones, or, we can unzip them both, then zip them together to create a double bag. It’s entirely up to you…”

“Together, definitely.” Zven whispered back, casting a quick glance towards the fabric partition, aware of the proximity of the other couple who, as yet, were unaware of Zven’s and Schneider’s burgeoning romance.

The older man leant forward a gave Zven a gentle kiss, savouring the taste of his soft lips, and gently stroked one cheek.

“You grow more beautiful every day, baby. How is that even possible?” Schneider whispered, as he pulled away to work on the sleeping bags so they could go to sleep.

Zven smiled shyly, still feeling unaccustomed to being the recipient of such compliments, despite the fact that there was no longer a day went by without Schneider showering him with praise of one sort or another.

Task completed, Schneider started stripping down to his underwear before getting in one side of the now double-bag. Zven quick undressed too, and crawled in beside him, immediately moving to snuggle as closely as possible. Schneider stretched out an arm to allow Zven to get closer, the young man draped an arm across Schneider’s waist as he lay his head in the crook of Schneider’s shoulder. He quickly dropped off to sleep, a smile on his face.

*

Till was up at dawn, needing to take a piss. He shuffled across the dew-laden grass towards the toilet block – a short distance from their tents but sufficiently far away so that the friends wouldn’t be disturbed when the other campers went there. On his return to the tent, he decided to check if anyone else was awake and if they wanted a drink or breakfast. 

Flake was out of the sleeping bag and was similarly getting ready to make the trip along the path outside.

“I’ll have a cup of tea when I get back, not sure I’m ready to eat yet.” He pecked Till on the cheek and was about to leave the tent when Till let out a stifled curse behind his back, making him turn around.

“What’s wrong, Tillchen?”

Till stepped away from the entrance to the other bedroom, gesturing inside with a black look on his face. “I’m going to beat the living daylights out of Schneider – taking advantage of Zven like that!” he hissed.

Flake peeked through the open zip, then closed it quietly, allowing the two men sleeping obliviously inside their privacy again. He pulled Till as far away from them as possible without leaving the tent, before addressing him.

“How long have we known Schneider, and during that time have we ever known him do anything beyond reproach?”

“About four years, and no, but…”

“…but nothing. Do you honestly think that Schneider would do anything untoward with Zven, especially since he knows his background?”

Till opened his mouth to respond, but Flake cut him off. “The answer you’re looking for is ‘no’. I suggest you keep your mouth shut, and say nothing. Watch how they act around each other, and if you’re still concerned at the end of the day, then we will have a chat with them both…together. You may find that there is more than meets the eye with those two.”

“But Zven’s straight!”

“Is he? He didn’t seem too sure about that when he was staying with us, from the conversations I’ve had with him! People change, darling. What he might once thought was true about himself, might not be any longer. Look, it’s Zven’s birthday- the first he’s had since returning. Don’t do anything to spoil it, okay?”

Till glowered but agreed, what Flake said was right, but he was still startled by what he’d just seen, and couldn’t help but be protective of his young friend. Zven hadn’t managed to open up to him about what had occurred since his disappearance, and he had to admit that he felt a stab of envy that Zven had become close to Paul, and now apparently Schneider too. There was a time that they’d tell each other everything.

When Flake was sure that Till wouldn’t be going on a rampage he left the tent in order to go to the washrooms. His brooding lover busied himself filling the small kettle from the small drinking water butt, putting it on the travel stove and prepared drinks for the two of them. Flake returned by the time he’d finished making the drinks, with it being a pleasant morning they took them outside, sipping them leisurely as they watched the sun continue to rise.

Inside, as the light moved with dawn, it fell on the two sleepers through the canvas, waking them slowly. Schneider was the first roused back to consciousness. He ran his hand through Zven’s hair, twirling the longer strands around his fingers. The younger man stirred and blinked sleepily up at him, the remnants of a dream slipping away as he did so.

“Happy birthday, baby boy!” Schneider said in greeting.

Zven smiled and turned on to his side to face him better. “Thank you. Are the others up yet?”

“I think so, it sounds like someone is talking outside the front, at any rate, and I’ve not heard any snoring from the other compartment since I woke up.”

The birthday boy stretched upwards and initiated a deep kiss, only pulling away when they both needed air, and when he felt himself starting to harden.

“I better go to the loo before we get too carried away, and maybe take a cold shower while I’m at it!”

“That’s a pity, I like it when you feel amorous. But you’re probably right, go on, the sooner we get up, the sooner we can get on with your birthday celebrations!”

Zven flashed him a big grin, and unzipped his side of the sleeping bag. Retrieving his toiletries bag and a bath towel, along with a change of clothes, he gave Schneider a quick peck on the cheek and made his way through the inner tent’s zipped entrance, across the main ‘living area / kitchen’ and outside where he was greeted by Till and Flake. Careful to keep his belongings below his midriff to hide his arousal, he bade them a good morning and quickly headed down the path to the communal toilet block.

Till contemplated going in to have a quiet chat with Schneider, but Paul and Ollie emerged from their tent, forestalling him. Schneider appeared moments later, towel draped over his shoulder ready to go for a shower himself. He exchanged greetings with the group of friends, and checked that they all remembered the day’s planned activities, before setting off along the path.

Paul caught up with him moments later, talking excitedly about the various things that he hoped to do over the next few days, and did Zven know what was in store for him? Schneider hushed him as they drew close to the concrete building, so that Zven did overhear anything by accident. Inside the building, Schneider headed for the shower cubicles and Paul the toilet stalls. When he returned to the tent half an hour later, he was met with the delicious smells of a fried breakfast and fresh coffee being made. He deposited his belongings in the bedroom and joined the other five men around the camp table, feeling suddenly hungry.

Once all the growling stomachs had been appeased, they moved on to the main order of business – Zven’s birthday. They moved inside for this first part, as they didn’t want to advertise the fact that someone was receiving gifts, which less scrupulous campers might be tempted to steal while the friends were away from the tent.

Most of the gifts were CDs or videos of Zven’s favourite bands, along with clothing, but the main gift was from Schneider, who covered Zven’s eyes to stop him peeking while Paul retrieved it from the boot of his car. He set it down on the floor before the couple and stood back. Schneider removed his hands and Zven opened his eyes and gasped. Laid before him was a brand new guitar. Unable to contain his joy, he turned around and threw himself at Schneider, kissing him passionately.

An embarrassed cough made him break away, but kept his arms around his lover. Schneider smiled at him.

“I think, perhaps, we have some explaining to do…” he suggested, with a raised eyebrow.

Zven’s cheeks coloured as he turned around, one arm still around Schneider’s back, and faced their other friends. He chewed on his bottom lip nervously for a moment before he summoned the courage to face them all.

“Umm, you might recall me saying, not long after my return, that while I believed that I was straight before… um…” Schneider gave him a reassuring squeeze. “…but that I was no longer sure of that…” he caught Paul’s eye, who mouthed a ‘go on!’ at him, “…well… as you have probably guessed, I’ve since realised that I’m… y’know…gay, and Schneider and I are together.”

Schneider gave him a kiss on the forehead and another squeeze, whispering “I’m proud of you, baby,” in his ear.

Paul let out a ‘whoop’ and moved to congratulate them, Oliver a step behind him. Flake nudged Till, and quietly spoke to him. “You’re Zven’s oldest friend, you should show you support him – it was obviously difficult for him to come out to us like that, I’m sure he had planned to do it differently.”

Till felt chagrined that he’d not been the first to congratulate Zven, despite his misgivings, and strode forward to fold him in a big hug. He looked Schneider squarely in the eye as he did so and said, “You better look after Zven, or you’ll have me to deal with.” Then to Zven, “I’m glad you’ve found someone to love, I hope you’re both happy together.”

“I am, we are… thank you. It means a lot to me that you’re here and that you’re happy for us.”

He gave Till a squeeze, then let go, as Schneider said something else.

“There’s just one more thing for you to open, love…” he handed the young man a plain envelope which Zven opened inquisitively, read the contents, and looked up with a grin. He turned to their friends.

“It’s my new ID card – my name change request has been granted! From now on, I’m to be known as Richard!”


	17. Das Boot

“Richard? I don’t remember that being on your shortlist of choices…” Till stated, confused.

“It wasn’t. But Schneider suggested it, and the reason why…and I decided I liked it, so that’s what I chose.” Richard replied matter-of-factly.

“Fair enough. As long as you’re happy with it…”

“I am. Very happy.” Richard smiled back at him.

“Hang on a second…” Paul interjected, a thoughtful expression on his face, “If Schneider gave you your name, filled out your paperwork and took everything to the register office…does that make him your daddy?”

The group of friends laughed, except for Schneider, and Richard, who turned crimson, wondering if Paul knew that Schneider often called him his ‘baby boy.’

Schneider answered on his behalf. “There’s not really enough of an age gap between us for ‘daddy kink’ to work in my opinion, but that’s between the two of us, just as whatever you and Ollie, and Till and Flake, get up to when you’re behind closed doors.”

The others apologised, suitably chastised, and dispersed to gather the things they needed for the day’s other activities. Schneider locked the guitar in the boot of his car to keep it secure, then returned to the tent where Richard was waiting for him, with their backpacks. The young man had a downcast look on his face, and was idly scuffing the toe of his shoe on the ground sheet.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“It’s nothing… forget about it…”

“Is it because of what Paul said?” 

Richard shook his head, still not making eye contact.

“Because of what I said, then?”

A pause, then a small nod. Schneider cupped Richard’s chin in one hand, tilting his head up to look at him.

“Do you want me to be your daddy, baby boy?” he asked quietly, his warm breath tickling Richard’s ear as he leant in close.

Richard chewed his lower lips nervously, before looking up at Schneider, and seeing the warmth in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Yes…” he whispered.

Schneider caressed Richard’s cheeks with his thumbs, and smiled. 

“How can I refuse you anything, especially today? I’d be honoured to be your daddy, if that’s what you really want, but I think we should have a period of a few weeks to give it a fair chance, before we both commit to it. We both need to be comfortable with anything new, do we have a deal?”

Richard nodded, then started chewing at his lip again, which Schneider knew was one of his ‘tells’ when he was anxious about something.

“Is there something else, sweetheart?”

Richard threw a quick glance sideways, checking that their friends were still all out front, out of earshot, before looking up at Schneider again. He took a steadying breath.

“I’m ready. For us to… to make love…”

Schneider’s heart skipped a beat on hearing what he’d been waiting for, for months now. He’d made sure that he would be prepared for when Richard decided he was ready, but he certainly wasn’t about to make love to him within earshot of their friends! He had to give it some thought and maybe tweak some of the day’s plans.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say that, baby. While I’d love to take you right here and now, I don’t think that would be advisable. Let me think about it for a while, I want to make our first time perfect. Is that okay?”

Richard nodded, relieved to have told Schneider how he felt, hoping that he wouldn’t have long to wait before they were finally intimate. Schneider kissed him softly, then rested his forehead against Richard’s.

“Come on, baby, the others are waiting for us. Let’s get the rest of your birthday celebrations under way!”

He kissed him again, then stopped to pick up his bag, then held out his hand for Richard to take, leading him outside.

*

The rest of the morning was spent trekking on horseback through the woodlands and hillsides surrounding the campsite. Schneider had noticed Richard’s fondness for the animals through the conversations they would have, and his reactions whenever they were watching a film or program on the television, especially if it looked like one was injured or got killed. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen this location, along with the fact that it was known to be ‘gay-friendly.’ Although homosexuality was no longer deemed illegal, there was still a great deal of homophobia present in Germany, so finding ‘safe-zones’ where they could be themselves without judgement was a source of relief.

By the time they returned to camp, they were all hungry and just a little saddle-sore. Till found that he could only walk bow-legged, making the others howl with laughter, remarking that he looked like he was pretending to be a cowboy in a Wild West film. They all smelled of horse too, so before they started on lunch they took it turns to go wash and change. 

While Richard was taking a shower Schneider slipped off to the campsite office to make enquiries for the afternoon. He was back at the tent and helping serve out their meals when Richard made it back, fresh faced and with damp hair falling into a natural side-parting with its continued growth.

“Here’s our birthday boy! Put your things away and come and take a seat, a growing boy needs to eat!” Till said, grinning.

It didn’t take them long for the six of them to demolish all the food set out, washed down with soft fizzy drinks that were still very much a novelty for all except Richard, who’d become accustomed to them while living in West Berlin before reunification. The main festivities were planned for that evening, when they would be going to the on-site pub for a meal and then presumably numerous beers. Before that though, there were a few hours to kill.

“Ugh… you might have to wheel me to the pub in a barrow, I think I’ve just eaten my own body weight in sausage and sauerkraut!” Paul announced, pushing back his chair and loosening the belt on his jeans.

“Maybe Ollie can help you work some of it off between now and then,” Flake suggested, lewdly, making the youngest member of the group turn beetroot red and attempt to make himself look as small as possible, to the amusement of the others.

“I think a less strenuous activity would be better all round, we wouldn’t want Paul barfing everywhere…” Schneider commented, “and to that end, Richard and I will be spending the afternoon at the lake. You’re welcome to join us, but we’ll be taking a boat out for a while and it only seats two, so you’ll have to find your own entertainment.”

They cleared away and washed the plates and cutlery before dispersing to gather the things they wanted to take with them down to the lakeshore, a relatively short walk down a track leading from the campsite to the water’s edge. Schneider led the way, a backpack slung over one shoulder, the other hand holding Richard’s. 

The late June sun was warm on their backs as they walked, with the promise of a scorching summer to come. When they reached the shoreline the group split into two, Schneider leading Richard towards a boathouse not far from where the path had brought them out, the others heading off in search of a patch of grass or sand away from the majority of sunbathers amassed close to the pathway.

Reaching the wooden boathouse, Schneider pulled out a set of keys from one of the backpack pockets and unlocked the door. Entering the small structure they discovered a boat with a small outboard engine and a pair of oars, which they could get into via a narrow strip of planks on either side. Schneider clambered in first and set down his backpack before turning back to assist Richard as he stepped down into the boat, looking slightly nervous.

“Oh, I just thought, I should’ve asked if you can swim!”

“I can, Till and I used to go to the swimming pool on a regular basis, but I’ve never swum in open water and have only been a couple of times since I got back, so I’m not a strong swimmer again yet.”

“Well, hopefully you won’t need to, but it’s good to know you can if necessary. Seat yourself up front and I’ll get the motor running.”

A few minutes later they were halfway between the shoreline and the island near the centre of the vast lake. Schneider didn’t pilot the boat too fast, as he didn’t know if Richard might suffer from motion-sickness, but also so that they could take the time to appreciate the picturesque surroundings. 

Before long they were skirting round the side of the island on the approach to the small jetty on the far side from where they’d embarked, Schneider turning off the engine to allow the boat’s momentum to reach it. As they pulled up alongside it, Schneider jumped out and secured the craft then helped Richard out before retrieving the bag he’d brought along. 

He swung the bag over one shoulder, then took hold of Richard’s hand in his and led the way up a small incline to where a narrow path meandered through the trees towards the centre of the island. It took several minutes before they finally emerged into a small clearing, abundant with wild flowers and a grassy knoll. 

Schneider set down the bag and, crouching down, opened it to remove a blanket which he spread on the grass, pinning it in place with his bag and a couple of rocks he found nearby. He sat himself down, then patted the blanket next to him, indicating that Richard should do likewise. Richard smiled and lowered himself onto the blanket, all the while looking around them, trying to spot the birds he could hear chattering in the trees.

Deciding that he wanted Richard’s attention to himself, Schneider reached out and cupped the younger man’s chin in his hand, turning his head to face him. He leant forward and pressed his lips to Richard’s, gently commanding his attention which Richard gave eagerly. Their kissing grew more passionate, and hands started roaming under clothing, as they caressed each other’s upper bodies. 

Richard stopped briefly to pull his t-shirt off over his head, as the constant rubbing against his now-sensitive nipples was driving him to distraction. Schneider whistled appreciatively at the sight. Richard had continued working on his self-defence manoeuvres, but had also been doing some additional weight training which was definitely beginning to pay off. His pectoral muscles were well defined and his abs, while still flat from his previous malnutrition, were now beginning to harden above his soft belly.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are, baby boy?”

Richard blushed faintly and smiled. “Only every day, Doomie, but I like hearing it every time.”

Schneider stood up and removed his own top, dropping it down on the blanket. 

“Do you still want to make love, baby?” he asked, pulling Richard up into his embrace.

“Yes, but… won’t we be in danger of being discovered by someone else on the island?”

“It’s a private island which can only be rented by one group at a time, using the boat we got here in. No-one else can come here until we return it.”

“Oh. And we can’t be seen from the shore where the others are?”

Schneider guided Richard over to the nearest trees in the direction of their friends and gently pushed him against one. 

“How about you keep a look out in that direction and tell me if you can spot anything.”

“What will you be doing?”

“You!” Schneider said with a smirk, kneeling down in front of Richard to unfasten his belt and jeans. He gently tugged them down to just above Richard’s knees, then slipped his fingers under the waistband of his underwear, releasing Richard’s hardening cock from it’s confines. 

Richard’s breath hitched as Schneider looked up at him before taking hold of him at the root with one hand, then lowering his head to lick at Richard’s tip. 

“Are you okay baby boy?”

Richard nodded, leaning back against the tree to support himself as Schneider started to pleasure him. He was more accustomed to being the one giving blow join rather than receiving them, but this definitely made for a pleasant change. Schneider proved very adept at bringing him to full hardness, alternating between licking along the length of his shat and taking him all the way into his mouth, until Richard could feel his penis hitting the back of Schneider’s throat as the other man bobbed his head up and down, bringing him close to the edge. When Schneider saw how close Richard was to coming he withdrew, making the younger man moan from the loss of the wet warmth of the other man’s mouth.

Schneider stood back up, and grabbed Richard in a fireman’s lift, in order to carry him back to the blanket. Carefully placing him down, he knelt back down and helped Richard remove his trainers and socks, before pulling his jeans and underwear completely off him, before quickly ridding himself of his own remaining clothes. He opened one of the side pockets of his bag to retrieve the lube and condoms he’d stashed there.

“Can you lie on your back and lift your legs for me, baby?”

Again, Richard nodded, his nervousness coupled with excited anticipation temporarily rendering him speechless, as he did as Schneider asked. The older man kissed him reassuringly before moving to kneel between Richard’s legs, squeezing a dollop of lube onto his fingers, working it between them to warm it up before laying it in a stripe between his butt cheeks, and rubbing it in circles around Richard’s entrance, letting Richard grow accustomed to the sensation of being touched there, Schneider squirted out more lube, coating his singers, again drawing circles with one finger against Richard’s, feeling the younger man relax, before slowly dipping his forefinger inside, and sweeping it around inside before pulling it out and pushing gently back in and out, judging the right moment to add a second then third finger, gradually stretching the younger man open.

Richard was moaning loudly as Schneider fingered him, no-one had ever treated him with this much care before .Schneider was taking the time to make sure Richard was getting as much pleasure as possible from his ministrations, instead of the rough treatment he was used to, and the difference was palpable.

He whined as Schneider pulled out again, wiping his hand on the blanket as he moved to grab a condom from the packet. 

“No, wait…”

Richard was sitting up, looking anxious.

“Have you changed your mind? It’s okay if you have…”

“No, I’ve not, it’s just that… I want my first time with you to be different… We know we’re both clear, so…”

“You don’t want me to use a condom?”

“If that’s okay with you, I mean…I’ve never not had sex without a condom, even when… when they…”

“It’s okay, no need to explain - you’re in charge…anything else?”

“Um…could we switch places?”


	18. The Island

“Whatever you want, baby.” Schneider replied, shifting so that he was able to lie down, starting to pull his legs towards his chest. “Do you want to prepare me, or should I…”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that I wanted to top you, I meant this!”

Richard pushed Schneider’s legs back down towards the ground and moved to straddle him, a nervous smile on his face.

“You want to ride me, baby boy?”

Richard nodded.

“Well, slick me up and saddle up, cowboy!” Schneider responded, grinning.

Richard laughed as he reached for the lube.“You’re so corny sometimes!”

“Only sometimes? I must try harder! Speaking of which – ohhhh….” 

He moaned as Richard’s hand stroked his shaft, coating it with lube as he did so, feeling Schneider harden again at his touch. Satisfied that he’d applied sufficient amounts, Richard set the lube aside and moved so that he was kneeling above Schneider’s groin, with the hand grasping Schneider’s cock behind him as he guided himself lower until he could feel the tip bumping up against his ass.

Schneider put one arm out to help steady Richard, the other joined the younger man’s hand on his cock to keep it in place as Richard started to impale himself on Schneider’s erection. His eyes were closed in concentration, his breathing measured in an attempt to remain calm and relaxed. He let out a moan as the tip pushed in beyond the ring of muscle, allowing gravity to push him further down until Schneider was fully sheathed inside him. He took a few more steadying breaths before he opened his eyes again.

Schneider was looking up at him with a mixture of concern and arousal on his face. He had moved his hand from his cock to rest on Richard’s other hip, and was gently caressing him with his thumbs.

“Okay there, baby?”

“Yes,” Richard answered in a small voice, before clearing his throat and repeating himself in a steadier voice. “Yes. You’re… bigger than I realised…you’ve filled me, completely,” he continued, sounding a little surprised.

“I’d like to fill you up some more, when you’re ready, sweetheart.” Schneider replied, his voice huskier as his eyes ate up the sight of the young man sitting on his groin.

Richard blushed, and bit his lower lip shyly, before slowly raising and lowering himself an inch at a time, feeling Schneider’s cock gliding inside him, up and down, out and in, harder, faster with every repetition of the motion. Schneider holding his hips to keep him in place as he rode him, harder and faster still, the head hitting his prostate over and over again, sending waves of pleasure cascading over him as he achieved orgasm. His limbs were shaking from the energy he’d expended and the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Schneider pulled Richard close to him and carefully flipped them both over, so that he was back on top. Getting no objections from Richard about the switch, he pinned Richard’s hands above his head with one hand, kissing him passionately on the lips, then nuzzling along his jawline, nipping at the soft flesh of his exposed throat.

He slowly worked his way down Richard’s body, pinching a nipple between thumb and forefinger making Richard moan, scratching lightly down one side leaving four pink stripes behind that would fade before they returned to the boat. His continued downward path was accompanied by some of the sweetest noises he’d ever heard, as Richard reacted to the different stimuli. 

Not wanting Richard to come too soon, Schneider left his cock untouched and instead set to kissing the young man’s inner thighs. Richard whined when he realised that Schneider had deliberately skipped over his erection, and moved his hands from above his head with the intent to stroke himself while Schneider continued teasing him, but Schneider had other ideas.

“Hands back where I left them, baby, or I’ll stop completely…”

Richard made an unhappy sound, but complied anyway.

“Good boy! You’ll get a reward for behaving!”

Deciding it would be unfair to make Richard wait any longer, he pushed Richard’s legs up towards the young man’s chest so that he had a better angle for penetration. Richard watched with nervous anticipation as Schneider lined himself up to enter him, tensing up as the tip of Schneider’s cock breached him, then relaxing again as the taller man pushed deeper in. Feeling his lover squeeze around him, Schneider began moving, slow and steady initially so that Richard could adjust to his presence again.

He took care not to punish Richard’s prostate with every thrust, opting to vary the angle and speed, gradually building up the pace. Richard was moaning loudly now, his heels resting on the small of Schneider’s back, hands grazing furrows across Schneider’s shoulders, back, and sides as he arched into each thrust, growing ever more desperate for release but not wanting to disobey Schneider’s instruction.

Schneider was pumping him hard now, the only sounds in the small glade were the slap of skin on skin as their bodies made contact, and the involuntary noises made by Richard, unaccustomed to having someone concentrate on his pleasure rather than their own. He had been brought, very skilfully, to another prostate orgasm by Schneider but still remained untouched. He felt like his whole being could explode at any moment if he didn’t come soon. He voiced his desperation with a whine.

“Please, daddy…”

Schneider didn’t think that ‘daddy kink’ would work for him, but those words spoken plaintively as Richard looked him directly in the eyes, his body pliant beneath him responding to every touch and caress, sent him over the edge. He came hard inside Richard, his seed filling him as he jerked to a stop, muscles shaking and sweat beading at his forehead. He took a moment to catch his breath before wrapping a hand around Richard’s cock, his thumb pressing against the head, smearing the precum that had already leaked out across the tip.

Richard moaned and thrust his hips up, rubbing his cock against Schneider’s fingers as he did so. A couple more thrusts and he was coming, his semen spurting onto his abdomen and over Schneider’s hand. He lay panting, his face flushed. Schneider pulled out as he softened, and leaned forward to lap up the mess from Richard’s pale skin.

“Mmm, you’re delicious, baby boy – you want a taste?”

When Richard nodded, Schneider pulled him up into a sitting position, taking his head in one hand and kissing him. He opened his mouth wide enough to allow Richard’s tongue access, which the young man took advantage of, tasting himself on Schneider’s tongue and lips, before withdrawing again.

“How do you feel, sweetheart, does anywhere hurt?”

Richard shook his head, looking up at him through tousled hair. “A little sore, maybe, nothing more. If anything I feel a little sleepy.”

“I brought another blanket in case we decided to have a nap while here…” Schneider reached into his bag and retrieved it, passing it to Richard while he searched for something else, which turned out to be a small cloth to clean them both up. Making quick use of it, Schneider wiped them both down then placed the cloth into a small bag to keep it separate from the other contents until it could be washed clean.

Richard had unrolled the new blanket and had partially covered himself with it, finding a comfortable position to lie down in. Schneider settled next to him, holding one arm outstretched so that Richard could rest his head on his shoulder and snuggle up close, which the young man did without hesitation, pulling on the blanket so that it covered them both up to their chests. He sighed happily as he wrapped his free arm around Schneider’s midriff, feeling the warm sun on his upturned face, and hearing Schneider’s strong steady heartbeat beneath him.

“I love you, Christoph,” he murmured, as he started to drift off.

Schneider smiled, turning his head slightly so that he could place a kiss on Richard’s forehead. “I love you too, angel.”

There was no reply from his young lover, Richard was sound asleep in his arms, a smile adorning his face. Schneider smiled to himself, feeling the happiest he’d been in a long time. He brushed his fingers lightly along Richard’s arm absent-mindedly as he stared up at the sky, watching the clouds drifting past. He lost track of time as he lay there, lost in happy thoughts, until the sound of a twig snapping somewhere in the trees nearby made him start. His jerky movement woke Richard, who blinked up at him, yawning.

“Is it time to go already?”

Schneider checked his watch. “We’ve got a little bit longer before we need to leave, but we should probably get dressed.”

Richard made a face but sat up all the same. Schneider rubbed his shoulder and arm to help get his circulation back before following suit. He saw some movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see what it was. He reached out behind him with one arm to get Richard’s attention, putting his finger to his lips to shush him before pointing quietly to the source of the movement. Richard’s face lit up with his brightest smile when he saw what it was Schneider was showing him.

“Bunnies!” he whispered. “What are they doing?”

He hadn’t got a great view from where he was, busy trying to get dressed half-hidden behind Schneider’s back.

“They’re doing what bunnies do best.” Schneider answered him with a smirk.

“What? Oh!” He giggled. “This spot is obviously popular with the locals too!”

“I can’t say I blame them, it’s nice and peaceful here. It would’ve been nice if the two of us could have camped out here by ourselves, but the owners don’t allow overnight stays on the island.”

Schneider started to get dressed himself, before packing away the top blanket. Standing up, he pulled Richard into his arms and kissed him deeply. When their lips finally parted Schneider rested his forehead against Richard’s, eyes closed.

“I should arrest you, baby boy…”

Richard looked up at him confused. “Arrest me? Why?”

Schneider’s eyes opened to look him directly in the eyes. “Because you’ve stolen my heart.”

The younger man was visibly relieved, and punched Schneider lightly on one arm.

“Don’t say things like that to me! I was beginning to think I might have to make a run for it!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it doesn’t make it any less true though. I’ve never loved anyone the way I do you.”

“I love you more…daddy,” Richard said quietly, in response.

He kissed Richard again, tenderly and all too briefly for Richard’s liking, but the afternoon was heading swiftly towards evening, and they needed to make their way back to the shore – there were no lights on the island or on the lake itself, so it wouldn’t be long before they would be unable to find their way back safely. Schneider knelt down and picked up the other blanket, rolling it up and popping it in the bag alongside the other.

Straightening back up he hefted the bag over one shoulder and held out his hand for Richard to take. They headed off in the direction they had entered the glade from, following the narrow trail back to the small jetty where their boat was moored. Partway through Schneider paused, face upturned, smelling the air.

“Why’ve we stopped?” Richard asked in a whisper.

“Oh, nothing – thought I saw a squirrel, that’s all.” Schneider replied, not wanting to tell Richard the real reason for him stopping.

“Ooh, where?” Richard was craning his neck, squinting up into the canopy of the trees.

“I think it’s gone now, love, sorry.”

“No, it’s not – it’s over there, see?”

Much to Schneider’s surprise, there was indeed a squirrel in a tree not far from the path, peering down at them from a branch about halfway up, lending credibility to his earlier comment. When it realised that it was now the centre of attention from the two humans below, the small creature scampered up and away, out of sight.

“Aww, that was so cute – I love it’s fluffy tail!”

“I much prefer your fluffy tail, personally!” Schneider replied, grinning.

“Ruuuude!”

“Come on, we’re nearly at the boat. The others will be wondering if we’ve got lost if we’re much longer!” 

A short while later they were skimming across the lake back towards the boathouse, and their friends who were clamouring to get back to the tents so they could change for dinner. As evening fell the group made their way to the campsite’s pub, where they had made reservations. Flake had dropped the birthday cake off earlier in the day, ostensibly so that it could be brought out once they’d finished their meal, but also to keep Till’s paws off it before Richard had the chance to see it, and blow out the candles.

As they returned to the tents, Richard chatting animatedly with Paul and Ollie, Flake carrying what little remained of the cake in a plastic tub trailing a few steps behind them, Schneider fell into step with Till.

“Did you find what you were looking for, earlier?” he asked, nonchalantly.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you were on the island, Till. I could smell your aftershave in the woods. I’m just glad Richard didn’t notice it. Imagine how he’d feel if he knew his best friend had been spying on him…”

Till stopped dead in his tracks. “I was just looking out for him, I wanted to make sure he was safe and happy. I needed to know he was doing things of his own free will.”

“You couldn’t just ask him?”

“Not when he might be responding with how he thinks you’d want him to respond. I wanted to see his honest reactions.”

“Well, I guess you maybe got more reactions than you bargained for.”

“I didn’t see you fucking, if that’s what you mean. That twig I believe you heard snap was just when I arrived, so I only hung around a minute or two after Richard woke up. I could see that he’s in love with you, and you with him, so I left almost immediately and swam back. I’m happy now I know both your feelings are genuine.”

“I’m glad to hear it…” Schneider checked on whether or not the others were looking back, “…just one more thing, Till…”

“What?” Till asked, turning towards him…just as Schneider’s right hook connected with his face. “Oof!”

Till’s loud exclamation made Flake turn his head, frowning as he saw Till stagger a little, hand stuck to his face. Schneider appeared to be helping Till stay upright, and waved at Flake.

“It’s okay, Flake – Till just walked into a low-hanging tree branch, I think he might have a black eye in the morning, though!”

Flake was certain there was more to the situation than that, but as Till hadn’t challenged the other man’s explanation, he decided not to pursue the matter further – for now at least. He turned back to follow the three men who were almost back at the tents, away in the distance. Once he was certain that Flake was out of earshot, Schneider growled in Till’s ear, hands fisted in Till’s sweater menacingly.

“If I ever find you spying on Richard and me again, there will be consequences. I love that boy to death, and will do everything in my power to protect him from anyone who might harm him, physically or emotionally, no matter who they are, you hear me?”

Till nodded. “Yes.” Adding, “Just remember what I said this morning, too. Just because you’re a police officer it doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you if you hurt him…”

“I’m glad we have an understanding. We both want what’s best for Richard. And that includes him not finding out about your island visit or this little chat. Understood?”

“Understood.”

The pair continued on together in silence, not speaking to each other until it was time to return home, the following morning.


	19. Mutter

After the other four had driven away, Till and Flake packed the large tent into the boot of their car, along with everything else they’d brought for the weekend away. Flake got behind the steering wheel and turned the key in the ignition. He waited until they were on the autobahn before demanding answers.

“So, are you going to tell me what really happened last night, why you’ve got that shiner?”

“You heard Schneider - I walked into a low-hanging branch.”

“Bullshit! There weren’t any branches low enough to hit you. But you were at the right height for a fist to hit you. So, tell me the truth – I’m guessing it might have something to do with that long swim you took in the afternoon, where I lost sight of you for what, almost thirty minutes? The island isn’t big enough for it to have taken you that long to swim from one side to the other…”

Till hung his head, hair curtaining his face as he did so, while he decided how much to tell his boyfriend.

“Schneider punched me because he knew I’d been on the island while they were there…”

Flake remained silent, waiting for more, his attention firmly on the traffic ahead of them.

“I wanted to make sure that Zven…Richard…wasn’t acting under duress. You said yourself I should watch how they behaved together, but how they act when they know others can see them, and how they act when they think no one is there are two completely different things. That’s why I decided to swim out and check that Richard was safe. I didn’t see or hear anything intimate, and when I realised their feelings for each other were genuine, I slipped away quietly and swam back.”

Flake found it difficult to remain calm on hearing the explanation. Till had chosen to deliberately misinterpret his instructions of the previous morning, and they both knew it. Till also knew that he would most likely receive punishment from Flake, although what form that might take, he could only begin to guess at. Finding the silence uncomfortable, Till continued to elaborate.

“I didn’t think that they’d know that anyone else had been on the island, but Schneider said he could smell my aftershave and put two and two together. Richard doesn’t know about any of it, and Schneider and I both made it clear to each other that we want what’s best for Richard, and that we’d hold each other to account if anything bad happens to him. The black eye was payback for me spying on them.”

“You should think yourself lucky that that’s all Schneider did to you. Quite frankly, I’m surprised he had the self-control to not beat you to a pulp. I think the fact that it was Richard’s birthday, and that he wouldn’t want to spoil it for him, is the only reason why you’re not currently breathing through a tube in a hospital somewhere. I will phone him later in order to straighten things out, and then I’ll consider what to do with you. You disobeyed me using a technicality, which means there was intent, rather than acting on impulse. You will be punished, you can be certain of that.”

Till kept his head down all the way home, not daring to make eye contact with Flake. His Dom hadn’t had many reasons to punish him in the past few years that they’d been together, and when he had, it had only been for relatively minor infractions. He had a feeling that this time it would be worse…a lot worse. 

Flake didn’t speak again until they were home, and even then it was to order Till to unpack the car and to get started on the laundry.

*

“Uh, hi Schneider…it’s Till…um, I’ve been thinking, has Richard had any contact with his family since he’s been home?”

A couple of weeks had elapsed since the camping trip, and Flake had suggested that Schneider might have calmed down sufficiently to listen to Till’s idea. Schneider frowned, wondering where this was going.

“Considering that he was told by his stepdad when he was released that his mum had disowned him, no. Why?”

“She never disowned him – she was always phoning me to see if I’d heard from him, for the first year or so at least. His disappearance was a devastating blow to her… shit… I’ve just had a thought – maybe Richard’s stepdad engineered everything to get rid of him…they never got on…”

“You could be on to something there. I can look over the arrest files again, see if I can spot anything to support that theory. Do you still have a way of contacting Richard’s mum?”

“She changed her phone number, which I don’t have, but I believe she still lives in the same house. I’ll call round after my shift and see what the situation is, I’ll phone you later on to give you an update.”

“Thanks, Till. It would mean a lot to Richard if he could be reunited with her and his siblings, I appreciate you taking the time to do this for him. Speak to you later.”

Both men hung up their phones, each pondering the possibility of getting Richard back in touch with his family, and the turn of events that had led to his being separated from them in the first place.

*

“Where are we going, Till? Doomie said I need to look my best but didn’t say why, or tell me why he wasn’t joining us.”

Till huffed, amused. “You still don’t seem to be able to grasp the fact that for a surprise to work, the recipient shouldn’t know any of the details about said surprise.”

“Can’t you give me one little hint?”

“No, you’ll find out soon enough. Stop pouting – it won’t get you anywhere!”

Richard ignored his friend and maintained a sullen silence, staring out the car’s window at the buildings as they passed by. After a while he realised that he recognised the neighbourhood they’d entered and sat up straighter, casting a sideways glance at Till, before returning his attention to the surrounding streets and houses, becoming ever more familiar with each turning.

“Are we…is this…” he faltered, as they pulled up to the kerb, parking in front of the house where he’d spent the majority of his formative years, “…home?” he finished.

Suddenly he felt light-headed, as he struggled to process the fact that he was finally, truly, home, and that his family could be waiting inside for him.

“Come on, kid. Take a deep breath, then we’ll go say hi.”

Till got out of the car, and made his way round to open the passenger side door, as Richard appeared rooted to the spot. He prised the younger man out of the seat, gave him a quick dusting down, the steered him up the pathway to the door at the rear of the house. Richard’s mouth was dry, his palms sweaty, as Till knocked firmly on the door. Moments later the door was flung open and his mother burst out, wrapping Richard in her arms, tears cascading down her face.

“My Zven! My sweet baby boy! I thought I’d never see you again! I couldn’t bring myself to believe Till when he told me you were alive and back home!”

When she finally loosened her grip on him, Richard was able to take a better look at her. There were more greys in her hair, tied back neatly in a bun, and more wrinkles lining her face than he remembered from last time he saw her, but she was unmistakably his mother.

“Hello, Mutti…” he said quietly, almost shyly, not sure of how to act around her after all this time apart.

She ushered the pair of them inside, herding them into the comfortable lounge, then fussing around them, asking what drinks and snacks they might want. Till gently yet firmly insisted that he see to the refreshments while mother and son got to know each other again.

They made awkward small talk, both nervous about broaching the subject of Richard’s disappearance, until Till returned with their drinks, carried on a tray with studious care, so as not to spill anything on the spotless carpet.

“Thank you Tillchen, you can set the tray down here.” She gestured to the coffee table located centrally between the sofa and easy chairs. “I couldn’t believe it when you called by with the news that you found Zven, how did it happen?”

“I was on an evening out with a friend earlier on this year, and we just kinda bumped into each other. I didn’t recognise him at first, he looked so different from how I remembered him, but his voice was unmistakable.”

“Earlier this year? Why did you wait this long to tell me? Why didn’t you come home straight away, Zven?”

“You’d disowned me because of my arrest. I didn’t think I’d be welcome…”

“Disowned? What…who told you that?” Confused, she looked from one to the other of them.

“Your husband. I came home when I was released, he said you never wanted to see or hear from me again. He gave me a bag with some of my belongings and told me to clear off, so I did.”

“That bastard!” The vehemence with which Richard’s mother made the exclamation took the two friends by surprise.

“Mutti!” Richard gasped, mouth hanging open in shock, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, liebchen. It took me a while to see his true colours, but I never once thought him capable of something like that! I…wait... you were arrested?” 

“You didn’t know about that?”

“No, this is the first I’ve heard about it! Arrested for what?”

Richard proceeded to tell her about the events that led to his arrest, his subsequent release and return home and what his stepfather had said to him. He left out the sexual assaults, not wanting to distress his mother, who now blamed herself for his disappearance, as she was the one who brought a new man into the house.

“I should’ve realised he might have had something to do with it. You were always at loggerheads with him. I’m sorry he was always tough with you, I suspect it was because he realised that you were…different…” she trailed off, not certain if her assumptions were correct.

“What do you mean by ‘different’?”

She wrung her hands together, in her lap, before looking at him again.

“Well, I always thought that…you were possibly gay. I mean, you’d not said anything, but the way you liked to put on my makeup and walk around in my shoes, when you were little…and you never brought a girl home, and with you best friend – Till, here - being gay… I just thought that you either weren’t ready to tell me yet, or perhaps you hadn’t worked it out for yourself.”

Richard took a moment to process that, taken completely off guard.

“I…uh…I only came out as gay earlier this year. How come you never said anything?”

“I didn’t want to say anything and discover I was wrong, and I didn’t want to put a label on you. It would only have given your stepfather more reason to be hard on you, so I decided to wait until you told me.”

“Can we just take a moment to discuss him playing dress up?” Till asked, amused by that revelation.

“I don’t remember any of that.” Richard replied. Changing the subject, he told his mother about his leaving the country and doing odd jobs to pay his way around until he ended up back in Berlin, again editing out the more unsavoury parts, just stating that he was somewhat down on his luck when Till found him, that he and Flake helped him back on his feet, how he’d lived with Paul and his change of name and that sorting the paperwork was how he ended up with his now-boyfriend Christoph.

“I’m sure you’d like him, if you meet him…”

“Well, if he’s a friend of Till’s, and you’ve chosen to live with him, then I’m sure he’s a fine young man. You’ll have to bring him with you next time you come to visit, and I’ll call your brother and sister – they’ll be overjoyed to know that you’re back home!”

“I’ll find out when we’re both available – he’s a police officer and works shifts, and I work in a shop, so we’re not always free at the same time. We’ll have to arrange it for when that jerk is away.”

“If you mean your stepfather, I threw him out a year or so after you left. We got divorced, so I reverted to your father’s surname. But that’s another story. You call me when you’ve got a date or two in mind, and I’ll call your siblings.”

“I need to be getting back, I’m on a late shift tonight at the hospital. I could ask Christoph to pick you up if you want to stay longer…”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll come with you. I’ve got things I need to get done at home.”

The three of them stood up, exchanging hugs and kisses, and a promise to keep in touch. Frau Kruspe watched Richard and Till make their way back to the car, and waved goodbye as the car pulled away. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Till, for reuniting me with Mutti. I never thought I’d see her again,” Richard was quiet the rest of the way home, lost deep in thought, eager to tell Christoph about his afternoon.


	20. Chapter 20

“How did it go, baby?”

Richard ran straight up to Schneider and flung his arms round his lover’s waist, pressing himself against him. He started to relate the events of the afternoon, his words tumbling out just as soon as he remembered things.

“Oh daddy, I can’t tell you how much that meant to me! Mutti didn’t know about my arrest, or that I’d tried to come home, she called my stepdad a bastard – I’ve never heard her swear before! He lied to her about everything, but she threw him out and they’re divorced now, so I can go back whenever I want because he won’t be there. Mutti says she’d like to meet you, and that she’d try to get my brother and sister back home so we can see them, oh, and she said she knew I was gay long before I did, but didn’t say anything because I had to work that out for myself, and because my stepdad would’ve been even more mean if he found out, and…”

Schneider put his finger against Richard’s lips to shush him, smiling.

“Take a breath and slow down, sweetheart! I don’t want you passing out from a lack of oxygen! We’ve got all evening for you to tell me everything.”

He bent his head down and kissed Richard softly on the lips, one hand cupping Richard’s chin, tilting it up. Richard responded by opening his mouth, allowing Schneider’s tongue access, moaning quietly as he felt his body responding to Schneider’s touch. Feeling an overwhelming need to have his baby boy right there and then, Schneider bent down and hoisted Richard over his shoulder in a ‘fireman’s lift’, and proceeded to carry him up to their bedroom.

*

They lay together in bed, legs still entwined under the tangled sheets, enjoying the peaceful intimacy of the moment. Schneider’s fingers toyed idly with strands of Richard’s hair, the younger man’s head resting on his chest.

“Doomie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Can we stay like this forever? I don’t want this to end.”

Schneider smiled. “It’s a nice idea, but I know somebody who gets grumpy when they’re hungry, so I’d have to get out of bed at some point to feed them!”

“I don’t get grumpy!” Richard protested, prompting raised eyebrows from Schneider.

“Oh, really? I seem to recall, only yesterday, a certain person having a right face-on when they got home from work and realising they’d have to wait an hour while the meat finished cooking. That same person stomped upstairs in a huff and banged the bedroom door shut!”

“You’re exaggerating. I wasn’t that bad!”

“Riiiight…and I’m the Queen of Sheba!”

Richard pouted, not liking the turn the conversation had made. “Don’t like you now,” he said, petulantly.

“Aww, is Daddy picking on baby Reesh? What a mean and nasty person I am!”

“You’re not nasty, I wouldn’t stick around if you were – you’re the best daddy ever!”

“Okay, now I’m wondering if there’s something you’re after, laying on a compliment like that!” Schneider replied, with a grin.

“The only thing I’m after is more sex like we had just now. Aren’t I allowed to say nice things about you without you getting suspicious?”

“Of course you are, I’m just not used to getting them, that’s all.”

“Awww, poor Daddy – that makes me feel sad! I’ll make sure you get compliments every day from now on!”

“Thank you, baby boy, that’s really sweet of you! Let’s see about giving you some of what you’re after…”

*

Arrangements were made for Richard to visit his mum on Sundays, as that was the one day of the week he was guaranteed not to be working. As Schneider often worked on Sundays, Till offered to act as chauffeur for Richard when he wasn’t on shift at the hospital – it wasn’t a completely selfless act, he remembered how much he enjoyed the meals Richard’s mum had cooked for them when they were younger, and he knew Frau Kruspe would fuss around them both, making them eat ‘a proper meal’ before she would let them leave, especially as summer faded into autumn bringing wind and rain with it.

Following the events at the campsite, and his subsequent ear-bashing from Flake, Till made a concerted effort to get along with Schneider, consulting him whenever he had an idea about an activity with Richard, making sure he had the other man’s approval before mentioning anything to Richard.

This particular morning he pulled up to the kerb in front of Richard and Schneider’s home, bringing his diary with him, as they planned to talk about which weekends they would each drive Richard to his mum’s house, and as their house was on the route between Till’s and the hospital they decided to discuss it in person.

He walked up the driveway and up to the side door. Schneider had heard him parking the car and so had gone to open the door for him.

“Come in, Till. How are you?”

“I’ll be better once I’ve finished today’s shift, I’ve got a couple of days off, and I feel a desperate need to unwind. But before that, I could use a bucket full of coffee!”

“I’ll put the kettle on, but you’ll have to settle for a mug full as I’ve no suitable buckets. Go and sit down in the lounge, make yourself at home and I’ll bring the drinks through.”

Schneider joined Till in the lounge and set the drinks down on the coffee table.

“I should’ve asked – do you want any biscuits with that? I think we may have some left, if Richard hasn’t been sneaking down stairs to have them for midnight snacks, that is!”

“Speaking of Richard, where is he?”

Schneider rolled his eyes before answering. “He’s in his room, sulking. You’ll probably have go up there if you want to see him before you go.”

“He has his own room?” Till asked, surprised.

“Yes, I thought he might want his own space, somewhere he can go when he’s wanting to be alone. He’s in there now because we had an argument this morning.”

“I’m not sure I want to disturb him, if he’s in a strop – he had the tendency to be a bit of a diva as a teenager. What was the argument about anyway, if it’s not too personal a question?”

“Paul and Ollie invited us to go with them to Flake’s club on Friday, but I’m working and I don’t want him to go without me. If the other two find themselves…preoccupied…he’d be on his own. He’d be a lamb to the slaughter in there, you know what they’re like in there!”

Till huffed. “Don’t I just! You are right though, Richard would be a cock-magnet. Could I suggest something?”  
Schneider nodded. 

“I finish early on Friday and have Saturday off, so I could act as a chaperone if you want. That way, he gets to go, and you can relax knowing that I’m acting as his bodyguard.”

After a few moments, while he considered Till’s suggestion, Schneider came to a decision. “I’d be okay with that, if you promise he won’t be left on his own at any point.”

“You have my word on that.”

“I’ll let you give Richard the good news, then.”

“Gee, thanks! Do I need a shield or body armour? Is he likely to throw anything at me?”

“If you let him know it’s you before you open the door, you should be safe enough… I think…”

Till snorted. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, send a search party!”

He rose from his chair and made his way out the room and up the stairs. He realised that Schneider hadn’t told him which was Richard’s room, and was about to turn around to go and ask him, when he heard the muted sounds of music playing in the closest room. Recognising ‘Strutter’ by Kiss, he knew that it must be Richard on the other side of the door. He gave a couple of sharp knocks on the door and called out.

“Scholle!? It’s me…Till. Can I come in?”

There was the sound of movement inside, then Richard answered, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“As long as it’s you on your own, yeah.”

Till pushed the door open slowly, and carefully poked his head around to see inside. Richard was laid on the bed, resting up against the large teddy, idly strumming his guitar along to the music, a dejected look on his face.

“Schneider told me about you wanting to go to the club on Friday, and I suggested a compromise that he said he’d be happy with.”

Richard stopped playing, and sat up. “Oh?”

“I’m not working Friday night or Saturday, so I said I’d be happy to go in his stead, so you’re not left on your own if Paul and Ollie wander off to do…whatever.”

“He’s still treating me like a kid, though. He doesn’t think I can look after myself.”

Till looked pointedly at the large stuffed toy on the bed. “You should give Schneider a break, he only wants what’s best for you. I’ve been to that club numerous times, it’s how I met Flake after all, and believe me, there are quite a few people there that you wouldn’t want attention from. I know who to avoid and can steer you away from the dangerous types.”

Richard huffed, but his expression softened. “Well, I guess it beats staying home, or the aggro I’d have got from sneaking out when Schneider’s gone to work, which is what I was contemplating.”

His friend looked alarmed at that idea. “Richard, promise me you’ll never try going to the club alone – it’s not like a regular nightclub, there are people there who wouldn’t think twice about hurting you!”

“Okay, calm down – I promise I won’t go alone! Jeez, you’re nearly as bad as him! You two seem to forget I lived on the streets for five years, and I’m still here!”

“Trust me, we’ve not forgotten. I’ll be in touch to arrange when to meet up. Did the other two say what time they wanted to go?”

“They suggested around ten for the club, but possibly meeting up in a bar first.”

“Sounds good. I’ll call them to get the information and phone you later to confirm. You okay with that?”

“Yeah, fine.” As an afterthought, he added “Thanks, Till.”

The larger man nodded, and left, making his way back down the stairs. He found Schneider in the kitchen, washing the mugs.

“Well, he’s agreed to my suggestion albeit grudgingly. He’s definitely in a bratty mood, I’m glad I’m not the one having to stay and deal with him. Good luck with that!”

“Hopefully, now that he knows he can go his mood will improve and he’ll start acting like a grown-up again.”

“I’m not going to stick around long enough to find out. Oh, you should probably know that he was considering going to the club alone, after you’d left for work. I told him why that would be a singularly bad idea, so now I’m almost as bad as you, apparently!”

“Oh yay – he’s in a super-pissy mood then, if he’s having a go at you as well! This is going to be a delightful day off!”

Till laughed softly, and clapped Schneider on the shoulder. “Maybe you should make him your sub, then you can give him a proper spanking when he’s acting up!”

With that, he opened the external door and stepped outside, to walk back down the drive to his car, leaving Schneider deep in thought.


	21. Chapter 21

Richard was watching for Till’s arrival through the lounge window, all dressed up ready for the evening out. He was out the door and halfway down the drive while Till was doing a parallel park at the kerbside, eager to begin the night’s fun.

“Couldn’t wait to get out of the house, huh?” Till grinned as his friend flung the passenger door open and plopped himself down next to him.

“It was a long day at work, I could use a good drink or ten!”

“I can see my hands are going to be full, keeping you out of trouble tonight!”

Richard just grinned back at him, and checked his reflection in the wing mirror as they set off. It wasn’t long before they met up with Paul and Ollie at one of the bars on Karl-Liebnecht Straße, close to Alexanderplatz. From there it was a relatively short drive along Alexanderstraße over the Spree onto Bruckenstraße, where the club Flake worked at was situated. Till had opted to act as designated driver for them all, as he took his promise to Schneider to keep Richard safe seriously, and so stuck to having soft drinks all night.

After downing a couple of drinks, providing the boys with the courage they felt they needed to enter the club, they all piled into Till’s car ready for the next stage of their evening. Till found a space in the club’s car park and turned off the engine.

“You guys know that they have a strict dress code here, don’t you?” Till asked, turning in his seat to look at them all. “Because the jeans and t-shirts you’re currently wearing won’t be allowed.”

“Don’t worry, T… we’ve got the correct gear on underneath. We just need strip down to it before we go in. You’re not exactly up to code yourself!” Paul answered.

“You’re right, but I’ll be going into the changing rooms provided before going into the main rooms. They’re a lot warmer than the car park!” 

Till opened the car door and stepped out, waiting for the others follow suit. He started to walk around the side of the building.

“The entrance is just here…” Richard pointed, confused as to why Till was going in a different direction.

“The main entrance, yes. But members and their guests go in the back entrance… it’s where all the best action is!” Till added, with a wicked grin. 

The others groaned, and burst into fits of laughter, following him through the doorway. He signed them all in, and led them down short corridor and into a changing room. The newcomers headed to an unoccupied corner, and started to remove their outer clothes, until they were stripped down to their individual choices of bondage-wear, which invariably consisted of rubber or leather shorts, with optional leather harnesses. Ollie had an intricate harness on, with numerous straps and metal rings. Paul had chosen a fishnet tank top, feeling slightly insecure about exposing too much of himself. 

Richard was wearing leather shorts and opted to go bare-chested, now that he’d built up more muscle tone, with a studded collar around his throat which Schneider had insisted he wear, so that other patrons knew he was spoken for. Till was similarly attired, with the difference being him wearing a leather collar with an o-ring attachment.

Once they were all changed, and their belongings stowed in the lockers provided, Till led them back out into the corridor to the double doors at the end, from where some awful (in their opinion) pop music was blasting out. As they passed into the main auditorium the smell of alcohol assailed them, along with the scents of assorted snacks that were available to order from the bar. 

Till threaded his way through the crowd to a table which had been reserved for them. The seats were covered in some synthetic fabric which was easy to wipe down, Till explained, making his friends grimace. Once the other three were settled, he walked over to the bar, where Flake was hard at work mixing drinks. The pair greeted each other with smiles, Flake finishing serving his customer before wandering over to Till.

“I’ve set up a tab for the four of you for tonight, make sure you settle it before you leave.”

“Thanks, love. I will do. I’ll start it off with three beers, and a bottle of Orangina for me. Put something on for yourself too.”

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry!”

Till returned to the table with their drinks, and sat down at one end of the semi-circled shape seating, effectively trapping Richard between himself and the other couple. The seating was placed in such a way that they had a good view of the stage area, where a dominatrix was doing a scene with a pair of submissives. The majority of the auditorium was taken up with identical tables and seating on a few different tiers, so that no matter where you were, you wouldn’t have a restricted view.

The building the club occupied had previously been a theatre, and as such had private boxes which could be rented if guests wished to do more than simply watch the displays. A door leading off the side of the main auditorium led to rooms that could also be hired, and came with all the equipment you could want for doing a private scene, if you hadn’t brought your own.

After a couple more rounds, the three men drinking beers were more than a little bit tipsy, so when the next Dom on the stage asked for a volunteer for the next demonstration, they all put their hands up. The Dom picked Ollie out, and invited him down to the stage. Paul leaned forward with anticipation, resting his elbows on the table, curious to see what was in store for his boyfriend, and how Ollie would react.

A padded piece of furniture, in the shape of a crucifix, had been brought out onto the stage. Ollie was asked to take up position on the crucifix, feet resting on a small platform at the base, and arms outstretched. The Dom asked him if he’d got a safe word prepared before continuing. He fastened Ollie’s arms to the cross bar via padded cuffs at the wrists, secured by Velcro. Next he moved onto Ollie’s ankles, cuffing them close together, the same way as the wrists.

As the Dom went through the motions, he constantly checked that Ollie was still okay with continuing, and asked for the safe word again, making sure they both knew what it was. He explained to the watching audience the importance of these checks, especially when doing a scene with someone new to them and, as he had discovered from a brief conversation with Ollie once he’d reached the stage, most importantly, with someone new to BDSM.

He talked his way through the scene, first telling Ollie what he planned to do, checking he still had consent, then addressing the crowd, explaining what equipment he would be using, and how and where he would be using it for best effect. When the Dom wasn’t addressing him directly, Ollie’s gaze was focused entirely on Paul, hoping that the shorter man was paying close attention to the explanations, so that they could attempt to recreate what he was about to be put through.

Paul’s eyes never left his boyfriend, and despite there being more than a hundred people in the room with them, they shared a sense of intimacy as they looked at each other. Richard could tell his friend was becoming aroused as he watched his lover being subjected to numerous treatments involving nipple clamps, riding crop, and feathers. He squirmed in his seat, feeling embarrassed at seeing his friend this way. He leant over to Till, saying he wanted to get another round of drinks in, as a reason to get away from the table in the hopes that Paul’s burgeoning erection might have subsided by the time he got back. No such luck.

“No, you stay here with Paul, and I’ll get the drinks. Enjoy the show – I’ve seen these routines often enough, but you might learn something. I’ll be back shortly.”

Till rose from his seat and headed for the bar. It took longer than before as the club filled up with more people as the night progressed. Flake had been joined behind the bar by two more members of staff to cope with the demand, even so, Till had to wait a while to be served.

Back at their table, the two young men were watching the scene with rapt attention, so they didn’t notice the two burly men approaching them, until they sat down on either side of them.

“Look what we got here! A couple of twinks, ripe for the plucking! I reckon the four of us could have a lot of fun – what say you we all go somewhere a little more private and have ourselves a good fuck?”

Richard looked over at the speaker and replied. “No thank you, we’ve both got partners and are perfectly happy.”

“I don’t see anyone with you – if you were mine, I wouldn’t let pretty boys like you out of my sight for one moment. I think you’re lying to us, and need a spanking.”

“My boyfriend is the one on the cross down there, we can see each other perfectly well!” Paul responded.

The man next to Richard grabbed hold of his arm and tried to pull him up off the seat. “Looks like it’s just you and us then, darling,” he said, with a leer.

“Get off me! We’re not interested – let me go!” Richard strained, trying to pull his arm away from the man’s grasp.

“Not a chance, cupcake. You need disciplining!”

Richard continued struggling, but the other man had the advantage of size and position, and was managing to pull Richard towards him. Their altercation had started to draw attention, people seated nearby muttering amongst themselves, wondering if they should intervene. The second man had now taken hold of Paul, deciding that leaving him behind would give him the opportunity to raise the alarm. Both individuals had their backs to the stage now, and as such, had not seen that the Dom had released Ollie from all his restraints, or that Ollie was now charging towards them. Neither did they notice that Till had been tipped off by a bartender that his guests were in a spot of difficulty, and was closing in on them fast.

Seeing that Ollie was on his way to join them, the Dom hot on his heels behind him, Till made straight for the goon currently dragging an alarmed Richard to his feet. He barrelled into him, tackling him to the floor, and started to rain punches down on the man. Meanwhile Ollie and the Dom had managed to free Paul from the other’s grip, and were holding him tight so he couldn’t escape or help his friend.

Flake arrived shortly after, and ushered Richard and Paul into a door at the side of the bar, taking them into the staff room, where they would be safe. They both sat down on the sofa provided, faces ashen, in a state of disbelief. Flake handed them both another bottle of beer each, and returned to the auditorium to see what the situation was. The Dom had managed to get Till to stop punching the first man, and step back so that the venue’s security team could restrain him and his friend.

They were subsequently marched off to have their photos taken, prior to being permanently excluded from the club. Their pictures would be faxed to other clubs in the city with a description of their offences. The police were seldom called to the club for what would be seen as a minor fracas amongst customers, so justice was left in the hands of the BDSM community. For now, they would be restrained, gagged and blindfolded, and would be taken in a vehicle to somewhere outside the city limits, and unceremoniously dumped. This would serve as a warning, not only to them, but to anyone contemplating doing something that would break club regulations.

Back inside, Till and Ollie had been taken into the staff room by a member of staff so they could see Paul and Richard.

“Are you okay, Scholle? Did that bastard hurt you?” Till asked, concern lining his face.

Richard shook his head. “I might have some bruises on my arm, come morning, but nothing more serious than that.”

“What about you, Paul?”

“Nah, I’m fine. He’d only just grabbed hold of me when you guys appeared. I do have a question though – what’s a…what did they call us…twinks?”

Richard was able to provide him with an answer. “A twink is a gay man, usually in their twenties, but who look younger than they are. So, just like us.”

“Oh. Okay. Um…so what do we do now, are we waiting to give statements to the police?”

“If we called the police, and Schneider heard that there was an altercation here on the same night that Richard happened to be in attendance, what do you think would happen?” Till asked.

“I wouldn’t be allowed to come here again, for starters…” Richard replied matter-of-factly.

“And if Schneider turned up here, and got his hands on the two bastards who were hassling you…what then?”

“He’d arrest them…?” Paul suggested.

“No… he’d beat the living shit out of them, until someone manages to drag him off them. Then he’d be up on charges himself. Trust me, given how protective he is of Richard, it’s better off dealt with in-house, rather than getting the cops involved.”

Flake arrived in the staff room at that point, now that he’d finished sorting things out in the auditorium. “Everything’s calm out front again, but I would suggest the four of you call it a night and go home. Till, I’ll settle the tab for you, get the boys out of here as soon as you can, and call me when you get home.”

“Yes, sir.” Till answered, showing deference to his Dom, ushering his friends out of the staff room, and in the direction of the changing rooms.

“Why are we being made to go home? We didn’t do anything wrong! Have we been barred?” Paul demanded, indignant.

“Desirée – the owner of this establishment - thinks that you’ve had enough excitement for your first visit, and it’s unwise to challenge her. You are allowed to return, but she suggests you wait a couple of weeks or so at least.”

Flake motioned towards the changing room, his expression brooking no argument. The four friends did as requested, trooping forward obediently to get changed back into their regular clothing in readiness for the drive home.


	22. Chapter 22

Schneider was still out on his nightshift at work when Till dropped Richard off. Climbing the stairs on wobbly legs, Richard made his way into his bedroom, feeling too tired to walk the few extra steps to the master bedroom. It would be a couple of hours before Schneider got home anyway, so he decided he’d try snuggling with his bear in order to get to sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes.

Next up was his jeans, which were a tighter fit that normal due to the leather shorts underneath. He pushed hard with both hands, thumbs hooked around the waistband, until the jeans were loose enough to slip down his legs. When they were down at his ankles, he stepped out of them and kicked them aside. He started bending down to remove his socks, but got a sudden spell of dizziness as the blood started rushing to his head. 

Sitting back up he had a moment’s thought as to how to get his socks off. Trying a different tactic, he laid back against the pillows and bent one of his legs back, twisting it sideways so that he could reach his foot. Grabbing his sock by the toe, he pulled it off his foot successfully and tossed it over to where his jeans were piled on the floor. He laid back again and started to reach for his other foot, only for the alcohol and exhaustion to get the better of him. As soon as his head hit the pillow this time, he was sound asleep.

When Schneider returned home, he found Richard partially undressed, flat out on the bed, one leg dangling over the edge, snoring softly. He smiles at the sight, shaking his head as he entered the room to finish putting Richard to bed. Bending down and gently lifting one ankle, he removed the remaining sock. Next he moved onto the leather shorts, unfastening the belt and pulling the zipper down, then slowly tugging on the shorts to pull them out from under Richard’s backside.

With the weather turning colder of late, he contemplated leaving the t-shirt on, but there was a strong reek of alcohol on it from where some beer had evidently been spilt on it. Instead he retrieved a fresh shirt from the chest of drawers and returned to the bedside. Schneider put his arm underneath Richard’s neck and shoulders, carefully manoeuvring him into an upright position so that he could remove the soiled top.

Richard woke up just as Schneider was contemplating how best to change him.

“Hi, Doomie! What are you doing?”

“I’m getting my drunk baby boy changed and into bed, as he was too sozzled to do it himself!” he replied, with an amused smirk.

“Was not! Got my shoes, socks and jeans off…”

“You got one sock off, yes, but not both. You’d also left your shorts and stinky t-shirt on! Speaking of which, let’s get it off you and get you into this clean one, then you can go back to sleep.”

“ ’kay.”

Richard struggled to stay awake while Schneider helped him switch tops, his eyelids drooping every few seconds.

“Carry me to bed, daddy…”

“You’re already on your bed, sweetheart. Look, there’s your bear!”

“No, daddy…our bed!”

“Hmm, not sure I want to share my bed with a stinky boy! You smell like a pub!”

Richard pouted. “Daddy’s being mean!”

Chuckling, Schneider shook his head. “Okay, baby, you can come and sleep with me. Come on, let’s get you up.”

He took hold of Richard’s wrists with the intention of hauling him to his feet prior to picking him up, but Richard yelped and pulled one arm back.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, did I grip you too hard? I didn’t mean to!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, daddy. You just touched me where the bad man grabbed me.”

“What bad man? Where did he grab you?” The alarmed Schneider did his best not to shout, knowing a raised voice would only serve to frighten his boyfriend, and make him think it was his fault that Schneider was angry.

Schneider turned the bedside lamp on, making Richard squint in its bright glow. Previously unnoticed by Schneider, due to the subdued bedroom lighting, there was a bunch of bruises around Richard’s upper arm, and more around his wrist in the distinctive pattern of a hand where someone had obviously had hold of him.

“How did this happen, baby? Where was Till?”

“Till had gone to the bar to get us drinks, Paul and me were watching a male Dom doing things to Ollie on stage, so we didn’t notice the two big men until they blocked our view. They called us twinks, and said we were lying about having boyfriends and that we needed spanking, and grabbed both of us to try and take us away, but Till rugby-tackled the man who’d got hold of me, and Ollie and the Dom stopped the other man. They saved us both, daddy, please don’t be mad at Till, it wasn’t his fault!”

“Did the bad man touch you anywhere else, baby?”

Richard shook his head, looking very upset at remembering the evening’s events.

“It’s okay, love, I’m not mad at you or Till. Let’s get you to bed, then, we can talk about it in the morning, when we’ve both had a sleep.”

With that, instead of taking hold of Richard’s arms, he scooped him bodily up off the mattress, and carried him carefully to their shared bedroom, placing him on the bed equally carefully. He waited for Richard to settle his head down on the pillow before pulling the duvet up over him. Leaning forward he kissed him tenderly on the lips and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Goodnight baby boy, sleep tight.”

Richard nodded and yawned. “ ’night daddy, love you.”

“I love you more, sweetheart.”

Schneider took a moment to return to Richard’s room to turn off the lamp, then into the bathroom to do his ablutions. By the time he got back to their bedroom, Richard was fast asleep once more. Schneider got undressed as quickly and quietly as he could, turning the main light off and using the glow from his bedside lamp to navigate his way to the bed unhindered. 

He sat on the bed, swinging his feet up and then under the duvet. Turning his lamp off, he inched closer to Richard and put his arm around his waist, spooning him from behind. Richard stirred slightly in his sleep, but soon settled again, not moving again for the next few hours.

*

Richard woke Schneider by whimpering quietly while he slept, obviously in the midst of a bad dream. Schneider shifted so that he could turn Richard to face him, the movement helping to wake the younger man up.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re home – you’re safe.”

Richard blinked sleepily up at him, then snuggled up to him as closely as possible.

“You were having another bad dream?” Schneider asked, quietly.

“Yes, daddy. Bad men were after me, and I was all alone, with no one to help me…”

“You didn’t have to worry about that, sweetie, I’ll always be here to look after you, even when we’re both old and grey.” He kissed Richard on the forehead, wrapping his arms around him.

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise. Try and go back to sleep, baby boy, hopefully you’ll have pleasant dreams about all the things you want us to do together!”

“Mmm…” Richard was already half asleep again, head resting against Schneider’s chest.

*

Later that morning, Schneider was serving up breakfast for them both. He portioned out bacon, sausage and fried eggs on their plates, placed them on the table, then turned back to the toaster, ready to butter the slices when they popped up.

Richard padded into the kitchen, looking like something the cat had dragged in, hair dishevelled and bags under his eyes.

“Wow, don’t you look a picture this morning!” Schneider laughed, when he saw him. “Do you have a hangover?”

“My head feels a little fuzzy, but it’s not as bad as the ones I had when I was living at Paul’s.”

“Get your breakfast down you, you should begin to feel better in no time,” Schneider replied, pushing a side dish of buttered toast triangles towards Richard.

The phone rang, so Schneider put his own breakfast in the oven to keep it warm while he went to answer it.

“Hey, Schneider. I was just wanting to check on Richard, make sure he’s not too hungover…”

“It’s okay, Till, Richard told me everything that happened last night. He’s got some bruising on one arm and had a bad dream, but nothing more than that.”

“I shouldn’t have left him and Paul alone, I’m sorry. I…”

“From what Richard tells me, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t sweat about it.”

“Well, maybe now he won’t think about sneaking out on his own anymore.”

“Let’s hope so. Thanks for calling, Till. Will you be joining us at rehearsal tomorrow night? I’m sure Reesh would like the company while the rest of us are playing.”

“Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow.”

He returned to the kitchen, and retrieved his breakfast from the oven. Luckily it hadn’t dried out too much, and still tasted delicious.

“Who was on the phone?”

“Till. He wanted to check you were ok, after last night.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That aside from some bruising, you’re fine. You are, aren’t you?”

“A little shaken, but I’ll be okay. I won’t be returning in a hurry, that’s for sure.”

“That’s a shame – I was hoping to take you there, myself, if you liked it. But if there was anything you saw, before things were…disrupted… that you might like us to try, let me know, and I’ll consider it.”

Richard’s face coloured slightly at the suggestion, dipping his head and biting his lip in an effort to hide his embarrassment. Schneider chuckled at the sight, amused at how Richard still got flustered about anything sexual despite his recent history.

“You get more adorable with every passing day, you know that, baby boy?”

He leaned over and pressed their lips together in a kiss, tasting the bacon and eggs that Richard had just eaten. 

“You taste wonderful, but you still smell of beer. Get upstairs and into that shower, on the double, mister!”

“Will you be joining me, Doomie?”

“Just as soon as I’ve finished my breakfast – now scoot!”

In order to provide motivation, Richard wiggled his ass as he left the kitchen.

“You’re gonna be the death of me!” Schneider grinned, watching the view.


	23. Bück Dich

The next few weeks passed relatively uneventfully, with all six friends having little time for anything other than work, only getting together for rehearsals which Richard would sit and watch on his own if Till was on a night shift, or if he was free they would either use the time for Richard to visit his mum – Till was always happy to drive him there as it meant he got to eat whatever buns or cakes Richard’s mum had made for the visit – or they would go and see a film together before rejoining their respective partners and friends at the rehearsal room.

Schneider was pulling in extra shifts due to the visit of a bunch of foreign dignitaries to the Reichstag, amongst other prominent locations. As numerous officers had been assigned to protection and security duties, their regular shifts had to be covered by other officers to compensate. As a result, he’d still not been able to join Richard on any of his weekly visits to his former home.

“The political summit will be over soon, sweetheart, they owe me some extra time off, so as soon as I can take it, I promise I’ll join you at your mum’s. I’d love to meet her, and your siblings, but I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait a little longer…”

“You said that last week!” Richard grumbled, a pout forming as he carried on with his pot washing duties.

Schneider sighed, hoping this wasn’t going to turn into another argument. They’d been over this already, but it seemed that Richard wasn’t prepared to let the matter drop.

“I told you last week how long the summit would be on for, and when I should be available. I’m not going to go over it again with you, so stop pouting.”

Richard rinsed off the last plate and rammed it down into a slot on the drainage rack so hard that a mug, which had been balanced on top of some others, jumped off the rack and crashed to the floor, breaking into several pieces. Schneider’s face darkened with barely controlled anger, Richard’s own paling by comparison as he realised what he’d done.

“I’m sorry, master…” he did his best to sound contrite, they’d agreed to give the idea of a Dom/Sub relationship a trial run, after lots of discussions about what Richard would and would not be willing to submit to. After their successful addition of ‘daddy kink’ to their relationship, it seemed like a logical progression, as Richard was definitely in need of a firm guiding hand. 

Now that the cocaine was well and truly out of his system, it no longer had the one positive bonus of suppressing the bad memories, so when they resurfaced, subconsciously or otherwise, he would start acting up, throwing tantrums and yelling at Schneider. Christoph knew that this was the underlying cause of Richard’s mood swings, so he used some bdsm techniques to help refocus Richard’s thoughts, and thereby controlling his behaviour in a positive manner. He’d found that trying to reason with Richard when he was in one of his moods was pointless, it only served to wind them both up more.

Right now, Richard was hurriedly cleaning up the broken pottery, keeping his eyes lowered and head bowed. While the mug itself was inexpensive and easily replaceable, the fact that Richard had behaved without due care and attention to what he was doing, while simultaneously rehashing a subject that had already been discussed and finished, as far as Schneider was concerned, meant that some correction would be necessary.

“Once you’ve finished sweeping up your mess, go to our room and wait for me there.”

“Yes, master.” Richard answered quietly, still not daring to make eye contact. He picked up the dustpan and emptied the contents into the kitchen bin, then stowed the pan and brush back in the cleaning cupboard. He made his way silently out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Schneider took some calming breaths, drying the pots and tidying them away while he thought about what might constitute a suitable punishment. He was due to leave for a late shift in a few hours, and he hated the thought of leaving Richard home alone after correcting his behaviour, as he was sure to dwell on it. He rubbed at his forehead wearily, his hand drawing down his face, stubble scratching at his palm as he did so.

He turned and left the kitchen, pausing in the hallway to get his handcuffs from his uniform’s utility belt. He ascended the stairs at a slow, deliberate pace so that Richard knew he was on his way, giving him time to get into position if he wasn’t already. Pushing open the bedroom door he found Richard kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, bent down low so his head was almost touching the carpet. 

Schneider smiled to himself. Richard had taken certain submissive behaviours onboard from the outset, demonstrating that he was willing to learn. The collar he’d worn to the nightclub was his favourite, he loved wearing it knowing that it signified to himself and others that he belonged to someone. Schneider had managed to get him to return there with him earlier that month, and afterwards they’d discussed everything they’d watched on the stage, and what Richard would like to try first, as well as setting ground rules they both agreed on.

“Hands behind your back.”

His tone of voice was cold and flat, his words concise and authoritative. Richard complied immediately, not wanting to anger his master further. Schneider bent down and cuffed Richard. He took his time, knowing that for someone like Richard, the anticipation of receiving punishment could actually be worse than the punishment itself. Leaving Richard in place, he moved to a chest of drawers, opening one and retrieving a paddle.

“Bend over onto the bed.”

The younger man sat upright with some difficulty, and turned ninety degrees so that he was facing the bed. He leaned forward until his torso was flat on the bed, his head to one side. Placing the paddle on the corner of the bed so that Richard could see it, he moved behind him and pulled Richard’s sweatpants down to his knees, leaving Richard’s backside exposed. Ignoring his own desire to fuck his sub into the mattress, Schneider picked up the paddle and readied himself.

“Count.”

As soon as he spoke, he brought his hand and the paddle swinging down and hit Richard firmly across both buttocks, the paddle making a dull thud. Richard’s body jerked with the impact and he gasped before speaking as commanded.

“One…two…three…”

With every strike Richard’s face screwed tight in a wince, sounds ripped involuntarily from his throat before he collected himself sufficiently to count. His backside was stinging, and as his body jerked his cock would rub against the edge of the bed painfully. While his master kept the blows at a steady level, as his buttocks became more tender the paddle hurt more.

“…nine…ten…”

“You’re done. Stay there and contemplate your behaviour until I tell you otherwise.”

“Thank you, master.”

Schneider removed the handcuffs and rubbed Richard’s arms to help get the circulation going again. Richard let his arms drop down to his sides, laying them flat on the bed. Schneider wiped the paddle down and returned it to the drawer, then went to make himself a cup of tea. He turned on the television in the lounge, watching one of their favourite programs while he sipped his drink, deliberating how long to leave his sub in his prone position.

Swallowing the last bit of tea as the end credits rolled up, he got off the couch and turned the television off. Deciding he’d left Richard long enough he put the mug in the kitchen sink and headed back upstairs. His sub hadn’t moved, his buttocks were fading to a rosy pink, they’d been a fiery red colour when he’d left, and had given off some heat from where the skin was inflamed. Moving to his nightstand, Schneider pulled out a tube of cream.

“This might sting a bit and feel cold at first, love, but it should help reduce the swelling and ease the pain.”

Schneider applied the cream to Richard’s backside, gently rubbing it in careful not to press too hard on the ares he could see were most sensitive. Wiping off the excess cream from his fingers with a hand towel, he helped Richard back up into a kneeling position, pulling his sweatpants back up then assisting him with standing up.

“I’m going to have to get changed for work soon, but we can cuddle for a bit if you want. Would you like that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Richard crawled onto the bed, moving up to his pillow, before lying on his side. Schneider got on beside him and opened up his arms so that Richard could snuggle up to him.

“I don’t like punishing you, baby boy, but you know why I had to do it, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy. I’m sorry, I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Good boy, and you know that even when I’m angry or upset with you, that I still love you very much?”

Richard nodded his head, snuffling quietly against Schneider’s chest. “I love you too, daddy.”

Schneider kissed Richard’s forehead and pulled him closer. “How about you tell me some more about your family, so I know what kind of things they’d like to talk about when I get to meet them.”

*

Richard waved Schneider off as he left for his night shift. They’d spent around an hour in bed, talking and kissing, then eventually leading to mutual blowjobs, Richard’s rear still feeling too sensitive for them to make love properly. That in itself felt like another punishment to Richard, so he was keen not to say or do anything else to make Daddy/Master mad at him.

Shutting and locking the side door, he drifted from room to room looking for anything that might need cleaning or tidying. Aside from his own room, everywhere appeared to be in fine order, so he set about making his bedroom look a little more presentable. He managed about five minutes work before the lure of food took hold. Richard was just about to enter the kitchen when there was a knock at the front door, followed immediately by the chime of the doorbell.

Not expecting any visitors, Richard frowned. Leaving the security chain on – which had been drilled into him ad nauseum by Daddy – he opened the door as far as the chain allowed. A tall man, who looked to be in his late fifties, was standing on the doorstep. His face looked familiar, but for the moment Richard couldn’t say why.

“Hello, can I help you?”

The stranger, who had been studying the house’s façade, turned to look at him. Height not withstanding, Richard had the immediate feeling that the man was looking down at him, as if he was an inferior being.

“Ah, you must be Richard, I presume. I’m Christoph’s father.”

So that’s where he recognised him from, Schneider’s family photo on the mantelpiece!

“Um, yes…yessir I am. I’m afraid you’ve just missed him, he left for work not long since. You could probably catch him in his office if you –”

“Actually, it’s you I’ve come to see. Might I come in? It’s a cold evening and I do believe that some of your neighbours are beginning to stare.”

“Sorry, yes of course, just one moment…”

Richard pushed the door closed just enough to be able to remove the chain before pulling the door open wide enough to let Schneider’s father in. As he stood to one side to allow him in, he caught sight of an expensive looking car, with tinted windows and a chauffeur! No wonder some of the curtains on the street were twitching, as their neighbours took a peek out of curiosity.

“Um, is that your car? Would your driver like to come inside too?”

“He’s perfectly alright where he is. I’m here to discuss a private matter and won’t be staying long in any case.”

Herr Schneider Sr. made his way into the lounge without waiting for an invitation and made a beeline for the family photo, picking it up for a moment to study it, before returning it to its rightful place.

“Family. Family loyalty. Very important, don’t you agree?”

“Yes…” Richard replied, unsure of where this was going.

“I can see why my son chose you, you’re certainly prettier than his last two girlfriends, that’s for sure…”

Girlfriends?

“…probably more intelligent too, I’ll warrant. So I’ll come straight to the point. How much?”

“I’m sorry?” He was definitely confused now. “How much, what, sir?”

“Maybe not so smart, then. You tell me what amount I need to write on this cheque for you to leave my son. Is that simple enough for you?” He’d reached into his suit’s inside pocket, and was now brandishing a chequebook and pen, an enquiring expression on his face.

“I don’t want any of your money, and I don’t want to leave Christoph! Why would ask me that?” Stunned and hurt by the question, all manners went out the window.

“You have to be realistic, boy. Given my son’s social status, he’s expected to marry well, and continue the family legacy. We’ve got a prospective match lined up for him, so to expedite things, I’m willing to write a cheque up to a certain amount for you to be on your merry way. It should help make your ‘transition’ more comfortable. Better to leave now before you get too involved. You’re just another passing fad for Christoph, much like his little rebellion against me, playing cops and robbers. A good looking man like you should find someone new in no time. So, I’ll ask again – how much?”

Richard found he was having difficulty forming words, his head was spinning and it felt like he had molten lead in his stomach. Schneider’s father ‘harrumphed’ then clicked his pen, writing on one of the cheques before tearing it from the book, and placing it on the mantle, next to the photo.

“As the hamster in the wheel inside your brain appears to have gone to sleep, I’ll say this. I’ve written out what I believe to be a fair sum. Leave my son before the end of the month and it’s all yours, only condition being you never see Christoph again. This is the only offer you’re going to get. If you’re not gone by next month, the cheque will be cancelled, and when my son inevitably dumps you – and he will – you’ll be out the door, but without any money. I suggest you have a good long think. I’ll see myself out.”

He marched past Richard, and swept out of the front door, signalling to his driver that he was on his way. In the lounge Richard had walked over to the fireplace, and picked up the rectangular slip of paper, eyes widening in shock at the amount written on it. He looked out of the lounge window when he heard the car engine fire up, then back at the cheque in his hands with his name on it. Mind made up, he grabbed the notepad and pen from next to the telephone and started writing a letter to Schneider.


	24. Mutter

The house was in total darkness when Schneider got home, just after two in the morning. Assuming that Richard must be asleep, he moved as quietly as he could through the kitchen and down the hallway, shrugging his overcoat off ready to hang it on one of the hooks near the front door. As he stepped backwards from the hooks he trod on something hard underfoot. Swearing under his breath he reached down to pick the item up. Keys jangled quietly as he lifted the key ring up off the doormat. Richard must have dropped them after locking up. Odd that he hadn’t noticed or picked them up himself, but it was possible he might have chosen to have a drink or two in Schneider’s absence and been too drunk to either realise or care.

Schneider placed them on the hall table, next to the phone. It took him a moment to realise why that appeared odd too – the pad and pen were missing from their spot. Maybe Richard had started making a grocery list and not put them back after. He flicked the light switch that would illuminate the stairs, if Richard had been drinking it was possible that more things might be out of place, and present potential hazards.

At the top of the stairs he pushed open Richard’s bedroom door, expecting to see him crashed out on his bed, cuddled up to his bear, but the bed didn’t appear to be slept in. Frowning, he continued down the landing to the master bedroom. Again, the bed was empty. He tried to remember if Richard had said something about going out somewhere with either Till or Paul, but couldn’t recall any such conversation.

Getting worried now, he checked the bathroom – empty – then hurried back downstairs. Turning on the light in the lounge he scanned the room from the doorway, eyes coming to rest on the missing notepad, left on the coffee table, next to some torn paper, and Richard’s collar. He crossed the room and grabbed the pad, noting that the bits of paper were from a cheque. He didn’t need to piece the fragments together to know who had written it – he recognised part of the signature.

“Oh no, not again…”

He turned his attention to the pad, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach even before he started reading.

_“Christoph, please don’t be angry with me, but I have decided this is best for both of us. Your dad came to see me earlier, and he told me that you were someone important and had to marry a woman as equally important, and that you would grow tired of me and being a policeman._

_He offered me lots of money to leave you, but I told him I don’t want his money or to leave you, but after he left and I saw all those zeros, I realised that you must be somebody really really important, whereas I’m a nobody, and that if I stayed I would be being selfish, holding you back from your future._

_I don’t want the money, I was never with you for money, I didn’t know you weren’t just a policeman, and that your family is super-rich. Why didn’t you tell me?_

_Anyway, I’ve decided to do what your dad said, and leave now instead of waiting for you to dump me. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me, you were the best daddy ever, and I will miss you terribly. I will always love you,_

_Richard.”_

Tears started to spatter onto the page as Schneider read the note, a wail of anguish burst forth from his lips as he realised his world had just been ripped apart. Irrationally, he searched every room in the house, and every corner of the garden in the vain hope that Richard was just hiding somewhere and hadn’t left. When he discovered the bag, containing the few meagre possessions Richard had on him when he was arrested by Schneider, was missing and everything else - apart from his ID card – had been left behind, he knew Richard was gone.

Not caring about what time it was he phoned Till’s number. When Flake picked up, sounding extremely pissed off that he’d been woken up, Schneider’s words tumbled out in a muddle.

“Slow down, Schneider and say that again…”

“Is Richard there with you? He’s run away and left me.” He couldn’t control his sobbing as he said it for the second time.

“Shit! No, I’m sorry, he’s not here. Give me a second, I’ll go wake Till…”

Schneider heard the mouthpiece being placed down, and Flake’s footsteps receding. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard a door opening and banging shut again, then the receiver being picked up again.

“Hello?”

“I’m still here, Flake…”

“Till’s on his way over to you now, to help you look for Richard. Have you tried Paul and Ollie? He could have gone there…”

“No, you were the first number I called…oh god, I can’t believe this is happening…”

“Can I ask why you think he’s run away? It doesn’t sound likely to me, he adores you…”

“He left a note. My interfering bastard of a father paid him a visit and scared him away.”

On the other end of the line, Flake blinked in surprise. Now that he thought about it, he’d never heard Schneider talk about his father, or any of his family for that matter. He realised how little he knew about his friend’s private life, beyond his relationship with Richard.

“Oh, I see. Listen, you wait for Till, and I’ll phone the others for you. If they know anything I’ll call you back straight away, okay?”

Schneider nodded, then remembered that Flake wasn’t able to see him. With a shaky voice he replied, “Yes…thanks Flake.”

“Thank me when you’ve found him. Try to stay positive, Till should be with you in a few minutes.”

They both hung up, Schneider heading to the cupboard where he kept the stronger alcohol, Flake dialling Paul’s number, long fingers drumming on the table top as he listened to the clicks and whirring as the connection was made. Schneider found he was having difficulty keeping his hands still as he tried to pour some vodka into a glass, giving up and opting to take a swig directly from the bottle instead, grimacing as the liquid evaporated in his mouth sending vapours whooshing up his nose. After a moment’s pause he took another mouthful.

He’d downed around a quarter of the bottle by the time Till turned up at the door. Schneider had left it unlocked so that Till could let himself in. Ready to lay into Schneider and demand to know what he’d done to make Richard run off, Till was brought up short by the sight of the normally stoic policeman in evident distress. Schneider made no attempt to hide the tears flowing freely down his face, making his skin puffed up with pink blotches and his nose run. Blowing his nose on some tissues, he offered the bottle of vodka to Till.

“I’ll pass, thanks, especially as I’m going to be driving…” he paused, wondering how best to ask what he wanted to know, “…so, what happened? The two of you seemed so happy together…”

“My father happened, that’s what.”

“I don’t understand, what do you mean?”

Schneider told him to go to the master bedroom, where everything would become clear. Till frowned in confusion, but went upstairs, reappearing in the lounge a few minutes later with the note and the ripped up cheque.

“Is this for real? Your family’s rich?”

Schneider looked up at him as he took another swig. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he gave Till a sardonic smile.

“I’m surprised you haven’t already put it together. You’re from Schwerin, right?”

Till nodded, it was after discovering that Schneider was from the same region as him that they got talking, and discovered they liked the same music. It was Till that had told him about Feeling B being in need of a drummer.

“Okay, so you probably know the names of the so-called noble families of our region, yeah?”

Again, Till nodded, mentally going through a list of the biggest names until –

“Holy shit! The Schneiders Of Schwerin! You’re one of them?” He asked, incredulously. At Schneider’s nod, “You’re practically royalty! Fuck me!”

“No thanks, I have a boyfriend… had a boyfriend, I should say.”

Till’s mouth opened and shut a few times, putting in Schneider’s mind the image of a goldfish. “Wait a minute, if you’re rolling in money, what the hell are you doing slumming it with the likes of us?”

Schneider sighed, but before he could answer, the phone rang. Seeing that Schneider was having difficulty getting up out of his chair, Till waved him back down. “I’ll get it for you.”

Choosing not to protest, as his head was swimming rather alarmingly, Schneider nodded and waved his hand in permission. Till disappeared from view into the hallway, and answered the phone. “Hello? Oh, hello love…they haven’t? Shit…where could he…” Till paused, a sudden thought coming to him, almost as if a light bulb had been switched on above his head like in those American cartoons that had started showing on tv. “I think I know where he’s gone. Is the little phone book still in the desk drawer? Do me a favour, could you phone Frau Kruspe for me, if Richard’s gone home to his mum, like I think he has, I need to get Schneider sobered up and quick!”

Covering the mouthpiece so that Schneider wouldn’t be able to hear what he said, he added in a whisper, “And just wait until you hear what I’ve just found out! I won’t tell you over the phone, you’ll have to wait! Speak to you soon, love you.”

Returning to the lounge, he took the bottle out of Schneider’s grasp.

“Richard isn’t with Paul and Ollie, but I’ve just had an idea about where he might be, which Flake is just checking on for me now. If I’m right, we need to get you presentable and as sober as possible. First impressions being important and all that.”

Schneider didn’t resist as Till hauled him to his feet and marched him into the kitchen. Till busied himself filling the kettle and preparing three mugs of coffee.

“Is someone joining us?” Schneider asked, with a slight slur.

“One mug for me, two for you!” Till plonked two mugs of the bitter liquid in front of Schneider, then turned back for his own.

“How come you get milk, and I don’t?” Schneider complained.

“Because I’m already sober. With the amount of vodka you’ve had, you need your coffee as strong as possible. Now, drink!”

Schneider grumbled but followed orders, pulling some interesting faces as he swallowed both mug-fulls, making Till smirk. When the phone rang again, Till ran to answer it.

*

Roughly half an hour later, they were in Till’s car and driving through the rain-soaked Berlin streets. Till had forced Schneider to change his clothing – You reek of alcohol – and to freshen his breath with mouthwash. Even now, he had Schneider sucking on a mint.

“This is it. Do you need a hand getting out of the car?”

His head feeling much clearer now that the coffee was working its magic, Schneider shook it, carefully, just in case, and opened the passenger door. He climbed out onto the pavement, shivering in the cold night air as he pressed the door shut firmly, as he waited for Till.

Quietly, the pair of them walked up the path to the front door, their way partially illuminated from where light leaked through a gap in the curtains of the downstairs room facing the street. Till knocked on the door three times, softly, and waited, turning his head to give Schneider a reassuring smile.

Schneider felt unusually nervous, his stomach feeling like a thousand butterflies were fluttering around inside him. It must have shown on his face, as Till gave his arm a squeeze.

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite! Straighten up, she’s here…”

The door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman whose appearance suggested that she must have been beautiful in her prime. Schneider could see where Richard had got his looks from. Frau Kruspe’s features had softened a bit with time, but would still be able to turn heads if she so chose, Schneider thought to himself. Right now though, it was evident that she’d been doing a lot of crying, just as he himself had, and was wiping at her tears with a handkerchief even as she ushered them both inside.

“Hello, Mutti.” Till whispered quietly, giving her an affectionate peck on the cheek.

“I’m so glad your boyfriend called, Tillchen, I haven’t got your number or I would’ve phoned you myself when Zven got here. And you must be Christoph, I’ve heard all about you. Please, come sit down, we should talk before you see Zven, sorry – Richard – I’ve given him a couple of my sleeping tablets, so he won’t be awake for a while yet anyway. Let me get us some drinks…”

Frau Kruspe started towards her kitchen, but Till placed a hand gently on her arm to stop her.

“I’ll get the drinks, Mutti, you go and talk with Schnei …Christoph…get to know each other. I’ll join you shortly.”

She sniffed and nodded. “You’re such a good boy, Till. Be sure to fetch some biscuits. You know where I keep them.”

Schneider had removed his coat and shoes during the exchange, not wanting to dirty the carpets. He followed Richard’s mum into the living room, and took the offered seat across from her. He cleared his throat, not sure of how to begin.

“Oh, you poor lamb! You look like you’ve been put through the wringer – come here and let me give you a hug…”


	25. Chapter 25

Right away, Schneider knew that he liked Richard’s mum. Despite being upset herself, her first instinct was to offer comfort to someone who was also suffering. When she finally released him he offered her a grateful smile. He sat back down in the chair and looked across at her.

“I’m so sorry that I haven’t joined Richard on any of his visits up to now, and that we should meet like this…”

“Oh, hush now! Richard told me that you work for the police, so I knew it could be a while before we were introduced, but no matter, you’re here now.”

Till entered at that moment burdened by a tray with three mugs filled with coffee, a plateful of biscuits and three small dishes to put them on. He set the tray down, and placed the mugs down, being careful to use coasters so that the heat wouldn’t stain the hardwood surface of the table.

“Thank you, dear. Now then, perhaps the pair of you can tell me what’s been going on? My poor boy turned up dressed practically in rags, soaked to the skin and frozen. He’s told me some very disturbing things, I need you to tell me if they’re true or not…”

Over the course of the next hour, Frau Kruspe mentioned everything Richard had told her after he’d arrived. He’d broken down, telling her everything that had happened to him from when he’d left home to visit Till five years previously, right up to the visit from Schneider’s father. He’d left out the specifics of his rape at the hands of the Stasi – this was a terrible shock for Till, who of course knew nothing about that – and had glossed over how he’d survived on the streets, but his mother wasn’t under any illusions. 

She made Schneider and Till confess as to how exactly they found him, which of course prompted another wave of sobbing from her. When she had composed herself again, she thanked them for rescuing her son, and for helping him off the drugs. Schneider marvelled at her grace and fortitude in the face of such horrific information.

When they got around to the subject of Schneider’s father and the cheque, he was suddenly under the impression that he was now under great scrutiny, not just from Richard’s mother, but Till too, who still hadn’t had the answer to his earlier question. Schneider took a deep, steadying breath.

“As Till found out earlier on tonight, I come from the long line of Schneiders of Schwerin. Until a few years ago, I stood to inherit my family’s fortune when my father either stands down from public office, or his death, whichever happens first. I have no desire whatsoever to follow in my father’s footsteps, I believe that my sister is better suited to the role and told him as much. From being a teenager, my father also sought to find me a bride of suitable standing, so that the family name could continue. He refused to accept that I was gay, and forced me to court a bunch of vacuous young women, in the hopes that I would capitulate and marry one of them.

Of course, I couldn’t stand any of them. One morning he discovered me in bed with a man I’d been seeing on and off in secrecy. Just as he did with Richard, he offered him money to never see me again, which he took, to my dismay. My father insisted that the men I saw were only after me for my money, and that I should accept my responsibility to the family. When I refused him again and pointed out that my would-be brides were only in it for the money too, he cut off my allowance and said I wouldn’t receive another pfennig from him until I’d finished ‘going through this ridiculous phase’ as he put it, and then threw me out, disinheriting me.

So, using the money still available to me in my bank account before he thought to freeze it, I bought myself a modest house, put myself through police training, and became an officer. I set up a new bank account for my wages so that I wouldn’t lose my income when the inevitable happened. I believe my father thought I’d run out of money fairly quickly and come begging to be let back home.

To be honest, after not hearing from him in several years, I thought he’d lost all interest in me. How wrong did I turn out to be!”

Frau Kruspe dabbed at the corners of her eyes while Schneider told his story, whereas Till’s jaw had dropped open in surprise, with a new sense of respect for his friend.

“Till, dear, close your mouth, you look like you’re trying to catch flies.”

He snapped his jaw shut, suitably chastised.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to see Richard now. Till, can you show Christoph the way to Richard’s bedroom, please? I’ll need to grab some blankets if you’re both to stay the night.”

“Actually, I better get back home and let Flake and our other friends know that Richard is safe, but I’m sure Schneider will want to stay.”

“If you’re sure? It’s no bother. Christoph, you have my permission to sleep in Richard’s room. I think it will be a good idea if you’re the first thing he sees when he wakes, and while I’m by no means naïve when it comes to matters of the heart, I would ask that you respect my house and not have sex with Richard in that bed. I would like to continue to preserve my memory of it from when he slept there as a child.”

Schneider’s face burned red, as he promised to obey her wishes, avoiding making eye contact with Till who he could sense was smirking at him. Till led the way up the stairs, treading softly, and slowly turned the bedroom door handle so as to make as little noise as possible. Pushed up against the wall opposite the door was a single bed, its occupant sound asleep, light from the bedside lamp casting a golden glow across his features. 

Richard had changed into some light blue pyjamas before going to bed, his tatty clothes discarded in a small heap on the floor. Only the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed gave any indication that the figure was asleep and not dead, so quiet was it in the room. Satisfied that Richard was safe and appeared none too worse for wear, Till wished Schneider a good night, a sentiment echoed by Frau Kruspe as she handed Schneider a pillow and some blankets.

“The easy chair is comfortable, but the carpet is also quite soft if you want to stretch out…”

“Thank you, er…” he realised he didn’t know her first name, and ‘Frau Kruspe’ sounded too impersonal.

“Please, call me Mutti. Till here does, so should you, especially as you’re my boy’s partner. Good night, Christoph. We’ll talk more in the morning, when Richard’s awake.”

She stood on tiptoes so she could give him a peck on the cheek, before shooing Till back down the stairs, pressing a Tupperware box containing some buns and doughnuts into his arms on his way out to the car.

“Could you tell Schneider that I can come and pick him and Richard up when they’re ready, I’ll be on standby for his call. Goodnight, Mutti.”

He passed her a scrap of paper with his phone number, so that Frau Kruspe could call him whenever she needed, then trotted off down the path using the box to shield his head from the rain.

*

Schneider was dozing in the chair, head resting on the back cushion, one of the blankets drawn up to his shoulders. The sensation of something brushing against his face stirred him awake. Richard was standing next to the chair, hair all tousled from sleep, eyes only half-open as the sleeping tablets still worked to keep him unconscious, making him sway slightly as he fought against them, arm still extended from stroking Schneider’s cheek.

“Daddy?” Richard’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Am I dreaming?”

Schneider smiled up at him. “No, baby boy. I’m right here.” He pulled the blanket to one side. “Come and sit on my knee, sweetheart.”

Richard wobbled unsteadily on his feet, but managed to curl up into Schneider’s lap without toppling over, Schneider pulling the blanket round them both to keep them warm. Richard rested his head on Schneider’s shoulder, his hair tickling his lover’s neck.

“I’m sorry for running away, Daddy. I got scared and didn’t know what to do. I thought Mutti would know.” He mumbled, groggily.

Schneider caressed Richard’s cheek lovingly, then tipped his chin up with his hand so he could kiss his boyfriend’s lips. Their mouths moved slowly, their kisses deep and loaded with so many different emotions. Eventually Richard’s head started to drop, losing the fight to stay awake. Not wanting for them both to fall asleep in the chair, knowing it would be murder on his back if they did, Schneider shuffled them both forward to the edge of the chair. Richard’s legs slipped off his own as he moved to stand, Schneider keeping hold of him so that he wouldn’t drop, his bare toes sinking into the thick carpet.

“Come on baby boy, let’s get you back into bed, we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

He helped him back under the covers, waited until Richard was settled, then tucked him in.

“Daddy? Aren’t you getting into bed too?” His voice was plaintive.

“I’m not sure there’s enough room for both of us.”

“There is if we spoon, and you won’t fall out if you’re against the wall.”

“What would stop my little Reeshy from falling out though?”

“You would, Daddy.”

Schneider smiled at that. Richard was obviously in one of his sleepy/needy moods. Grabbing the pillow and blankets Frau Kruspe had given him, he put them on the bed between Richard and the wall, before pushing his shoes off with either foot. He undid his belt and slid his jeans off in order to be at least partially comfortable enough to sleep, then clambered carefully onto the bed next to Richard, laying on his side so he could fit into the narrow space next to the wall, covering himself up with the blankets as he did so.

“Aren’t you getting in with me?”

“I made a promise to your mum, and I’d be tempted to break it if I got under the covers. We can still snuggle like this, baby.”

To prove his point he wrapped his free arm around Richard’s waist, and kissed him at the base of his neck, his breath warm on the younger man’s skin, making Richard sigh softly.

“Go to sleep, Richard. I love you.”

“Love you too, Daddy…” the younger man replied, yawning as his eyelids fluttered closed, asleep in moments.

*

It took a minute for Schneider to remember where they were and why, when he woke a few hours later. Dawn’s light was creeping round the edges of the curtains, allowing him to make out objects in the room. He’d managed to turn out the bedside lamp after Richard had fallen asleep without disturbing him, helping him catch a few zeds himself. Lying in the same position all night had left him feeling stiff, in more ways than one, he mused, so he’d need to get up soon if he wasn’t to seize up completely.

He could hear sounds coming from an adjacent room, which he assumed was Richard’s mum getting up and about. His theory was confirmed when he heard water running in the bathroom, followed a few minutes later by footsteps approaching the bedroom door. There was a light knock on the wooden surface before the door was opened , followed by Frau Kruspe’s head peering around it.

Schneider shifted into a more upright position, letting enough of the blankets fall away so that Frau Kruspe could see he’d not broken his promise, but not so much that his erection would be evident. Richard continued to sleep peacefully, despite Schneider’s movements.

“Good morning, dear,” Frau Kruspe whispered, “are you ready for breakfast yet?”

“Not quite yet, thank you. I don’t want to wake Richard up by moving, he obviously needs his rest. If you don’t mind, I’d like to give him a bit more time to rouse naturally, but if he’s still asleep in an hour, I’ll wake him up.” Even at a whisper, Schneider thought that they might disturb Richard, but he continued sleeping blissfully.

Frau Kruspe smiled and nodded. “Take as much time as you need, I’ll be downstairs if you want me for anything. I’ve put fresh towels in the bathroom for you both.”

With that she ducked back out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Schneider turned his attention back to Richard. Without the normally ubiquitous gel, his spikes of hair lay in soft tufts, spilling down over his forehead, almost touching the bridge of his nose. His long lashes fanned around his eyes, his face relaxed, giving him a much younger appearance.

This observation pierced Schneider’s heart, getting a mental image of Richard as a teenager, alone, in pain, and in fear for his life. He vowed silently to himself again to do everything in his power to protect Richard from anyone who might seek to do him harm of any sort, no matter who they might be, Richard included. In the relatively short time that they’d been together, Richard had been working hard on developing his social skills, which would help him in his job if nothing else, but his emotional growth was very slow-going.

Richard had finally relented to Schneider’s suggestions to see a psychiatrist, in the hope they could help him confront his past and work through his issues. He’d insisted that he’d only see a female psychiatrist, and absolutely would not have a session without Schneider beside him. As Richard had given his consent for Schneider to be present in his sessions, Schneider was able to discuss Richard’s issues freely with her, hear her analysis and talk about ways to help Richard.

She’d concluded, just as he himself had guessed, that Richard’s emotional growth had all but ceased following his incarceration, but she went further and suggested that it had already been in decline for a few years as a result of the emotional, and sometimes physical, abuse at the hands of his stepfather. It became apparent that Frau Kruspe wasn’t aware of the beatings Richard received, as they always happened when she was out of the house, and when she became aware of any bruises or injuries they were already healing, and Richard would pass them off as either accidents or from fights at school. He never told her the truth as his stepfather threatened Richard with the suggestion of beating her or his siblings if he tried.

So, just as Schneider thought that Richard retreated to his pre-arrest mental state when scared or upset, the therapist posited that he probably regressed to something nearer to his pre-teen (and pre-stepfather) state, which was likely the last time he felt safe mentally, emotionally, and physically. On hearing that, Schneider became disturbed again about the dynamics of his relationship with Richard, and found himself needing to discuss their use of ‘Daddy kink’ and Dom/Sub play.

She was able to reassure him that what they were currently doing was unlikely to have a negative impact on Richard’s psyche – he didn’t see Schneider as a representation of either his father or stepfather, but rather as a protective figure and positive male role-model that he’d lacked in his formative years. Richard’s use of the word ‘Daddy’ was more a mark of respect than anything else in his case, often calling Schneider Daddy outside of their sex life, although other couples often used ‘Daddy kink’ more as a form of sexual role-play.

He asked about spanking and other punishments he’d used with Richard, concerned that Richard might see this as a continuation of the beatings he suffered as a teenager. Again, as he and Schneider had discussed what form punishments and rewards would take, had agreed upon safe-words, and that these actions would only take place under certain circumstances, rather than doled out randomly with no definable catalyst as was the case with his stepfather, then the use of rewards and punishments to guide or correct Richard’s behaviour, would again theoretically be safe to use. The therapist told him a range of warning signs to look out for, in case they did become detrimental to Richard’s well-being, and advised Schneider on which techniques and practices he should avoid at all costs.

While Schneider reflected on all of this, he became aware of a change in his boyfriend’s breathing, as Richard started waking up. He needed to be careful with how he handled the subject of Richard’s running away and not trusting in Christoph to offer a solution to the situation created by Schneider Sr. While Richard had not come to any harm as he made his way to his childhood home, it could very easily turned out badly. Richard would have to face up to his mistakes, receive his punishment, but still be left with the certain knowledge that Schneider loved him, and only wanted what’s best for Richard.

As his mind offered and discarded various options in turn, Schneider’s eyes wandered the bedroom, able to pick out more details as the light grew outside. His gaze settled on the door, where a poster hung, it had obviously been torn to shreds in the past, and painstakingly put back together again with what looked to be an entire roll of sellotape. An idea began to take shape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not a trained psychologist/psychiatrist, so I’ve taken artistic license when it came to the analysis in this chapter, using my own observations and second-hand accounts. If you are a psychiatrist and I’ve made any glaring errors, please let me know.


	26. The Morning After The Night Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an effort not to let my writing go stale, and to give poor Reesh a rest, I’d like to invite you all to send me story prompts along with your preferred ‘ship’. This should hopefully stop me from using the same old tropes and provide you with some variety. Any stories arising from the prompts will be credited to the person responsible. I may not get round to doing any before this story has finished, but I need something to occupy me on my long flights to and from Mexico at the end of the year

Richard yawned and turned over underneath the covers so that he was facing Schneider, who was still laying on his side, head propped up on bended arm. His grey eyes blinked sleepily up at Schneider while his brain processed the current situation.

“Morning, Daddy.”

“Good morning, baby boy. Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm. I prefer our bed though.”

“Well, if you’d waited for me to get home instead of running away, we’d have been in our bed right now.”

“I know, Daddy, I’m sorry.” Richard replied, mournfully.

“We’ll discuss everything properly when we get home. Your mum’s downstairs already, we should get up and join her soon.”

Richard wriggled out from underneath his sheets and pulled the blankets away from Schneider, who managed to lie down on his back, trying to stretch out the stiffness in his limbs. Taking that as a cue for something else, Richard clambered back onto the bed and straddled Schneider, positioning himself so that his ass was over Schneider’s groin. The older man arched an eyebrow at him.

“What do you think you’re doing, young man?”

“Trying to make you hard so we can have sex.”

“Aside from the fact that I promised your mum that we won’t have sex in your bed, what makes you think you deserve my cock up your ass, right now?”

“I…um…don’t you love me any more?” Richard asked, his voice small.

Schneider sighed, gently moving Richard off, and sitting up next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Of course I love you. Don’t ever doubt that, sweetheart…” he paused, kissing Richard tenderly on the lips, which served to get the reaction Richard had been hoping for, before continuing, “…but you’ve been a naughty boy and broken some of our rules, so as your master, I have to punish you. Obviously, what I can do here is limited, so your punishment will be in two stages. Right now, I want you to take your pyjamas off and stand facing the door.”

Richard had a look of concern on his face. “What if Mutti comes upstairs?”

“Let me worry about that, you just do as you’re told.”

“Yes, master.”

Schneider was glad that Richard was obeying, and using the correct form of address. He watched him as he undid the buttons of the top, placing it on the bed. Schneider enjoyed the view, Richard’s pectorals were well defined, his stomach lean but not overly muscular. When Richard removed the bottoms, his erection bounced up, free from its fabric confines. He turned and walked over to the door, and stood as directed. Schneider found himself with the glorious view of Richard’s shapely buttocks, which served to bring him to full hardness.

“Place your hands flat against the door for support, and stand with your legs apart.”

While Richard complied, Schneider got off the bed and picked up his jacket from the easy chair, searching his pockets for a few moments until he found what he was looking for. He opened the sachet of lube, and having removed his own underwear, applied some of it to the tip of his cock, the rest he used to coat Richard’s entrance. He could feel the younger man flinch from the feel of the cold liquid, but he didn’t utter a word or sound of complaint.

Schneider spent a minute working Richard open with his fingers. When he was satisfied that Richard was ready, he spoke in his ear, quietly.

“I promised that we wouldn’t have sex in your bed, I didn’t say anything about anywhere else in your room. While we can hear your mum downstairs, we won’t be discovered, so you need to be absolutely silent in order for us to be able hear her movements. As this is part of your punishment, I’m going to fuck you from behind…”

Schneider knew that since they’d been together, they’d always had sex facing each other, as Richard thought of ‘doggy style’ as being associated with his time as a rent boy, and that he’d feel cheap and dirty if he did it that way again. Richard opened his mouth to object, but realised that he’d only make his punishment worse if he did, and quickly shut it again.

“You can use your safe word if it becomes too much for you, okay?” Richard nodded.

Schneider guided his erect penis to Richard’s entrance with his hand, and pushed in slowly. Richard shuddered slightly as the head breached him, and let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding once Schneider was fully sheathed inside him. Gripping Richard’s hips with both hands, he started fucking him, long slow strokes interspersed with quick shallow ones. As he started to gain momentum, he could tell Richard was having difficulty keeping his hands on the door, fighting against the urge to take himself in hand and jerk off. Schneider slowed down again, moving one hand from Richard’s hip to lay it flat against his stomach, holding him close.

“You told me about this Kiss poster your stepdad tried to destroy. Tell me, baby boy, when you listened to their music, did you look at the poster while masturbating?”

Richard blushed, his cheeks taking on a rosy tinge. He nodded.

“Say it. Tell me what a dirty little boy you are…”

“I jerked off listening to Kiss, looking at this poster. I used to imagine the things Gene Simmons could do with his tongue…”

Schneider moved his hand to Richard’s cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts, batting Richard’s hand away when he tried touching himself. Schneider felt himself getting close.

“Keep your hand on the door, pretty one, I’m almost there.”

As he could feel his climax almost upon him, Schneider used his hand around Richard’s cock to halt the blood flow, preventing him from coming. A few more thrusts, and Schneider spilled his seed inside his lover, grunting with the effort he’d been making, their bodies making a wet smacking sound as they met. When he was spent he withdrew, his cum starting to trickle out of Richard, following his curves down to his legs. Richard keened softly, wanting his own orgasm, his cock engorged and sensitive to the touch.

“That’s all you’re getting for now, clean me off, then you can go for your shower, but no jerking off. I will ask you later, and will know if you lie to me.”

Silently obeying, Richard dropped to his knees in front of Schneider, and used his tongue to clean his master. When he’d finished he waited for permission to stand again. Schneider opened the door a crack and listened for sounds that might suggest Richard’s mum might be approaching. Hearing none, he gestured for Richard to stand up.

“Your mum’s still downstairs. Go straight to the bathroom for your shower and come down for breakfast when you’re dressed. Remember what I said. Understood?”

“Yes, master.”

Richard bolted straight out of the door and down the landing to the bathroom, not wanting his mum to see him in his current soiled state. Sliding the bolt into place on the bathroom door, he quickly started the shower running, waiting for the water to warm up before stepping in. Back in the bedroom Schneider used his underwear to dry himself off, slipping on his jeans after deciding to go commando instead of putting his pants on damp. He pushed the underwear and the empty lube packet into his jacket pocket. Giving his hair a quick comb, checking his appearance in the bedroom mirror, he concluded he looked presentable enough to go downstairs. His face had returned to its natural colour, having turned an interesting shade of red during intercourse. He exited the bedroom, putting an ear to the bathroom door to see if there were any sounds to indicate that Richard was disobeying his instructions, then making his way at a measured pace downstairs.

“That smells delicious, Mutti” he said, appreciatively, as he entered the kitchen, Richard’s mother busily making a fresh batch of pancakes.

Frau Kruspe turned and smiled at him. “Sit down, dear, your breakfast will be ready shortly, then I’ll fix you a drink.”

“Let me sort the drinks, just point me in the right direction.”

“The mugs are in the wall cupboard to your right, the tea and coffee are over by the kettle. You’ll need to fill it up first.”

“What would you like?”

“I’d love a tea, thank you, white, no sugar.”

“Coming right up.”

The pair went about their individual tasks in companionable silence, Schneider finishing first, transferring the mugs to the kitchen table while Frau Kruspe whisked up another bowlful of pancake mix. He took a seat, quietly watching the woman who had brought his lover into the world, and occasionally glancing out of the window to the garden beyond. The trees had lost most of their leaves, with autumn turning gradually into winter, their dark skeletal limbs seemingly reaching up to pluck the passing clouds from the sky.

The sound of approaching footsteps brought his attention back to the kitchen. Richard had evidently finished showering and joined them, his hair still damp despite him towelling it as dry as possible. He sat down next to Schneider, nose twitching from the aromas. Although it was obvious that Schneider had made a coffee for him, he knew better than to take it without permission. He looked at Schneider, then the mug, and back at Schneider, in a silent request. The older man picked it up and placed it in front of Richard.

“This one’s yours, love. Be careful – it’s hot.”

“Thank you.”

Frau Kruspe had finished making the pancakes, and divided them between the three of them, offering a range of jams and syrups for them to load them with. Schneider chose honey, while Richard squirted large amounts of chocolate sauce on his, shovelling the food into his mouth as quickly as he could manage, a happy expression on his face while he chewed and swallowed each mouthful. Schneider snorted in amusement.

“Richard! Slow down, you’ll give yourself indigestion!”

Richard swallowed again. “Yes, Mutti.”

“What do you two boys have planned for today?”

With Richard suitably silenced on account of having his mouth full, Schneider answered for them both.

“Obviously we need to have a conversation about yesterday’s events, which we’ll do back at home. I had originally thought about us going to the cinema, there are a few American films that are supposed to be good that have just been released but I hadn’t decided on which one to see.”

“Which ones are they?”

“There’s a gangster movie called ‘Goodfellas’, a horror story ‘Night of the Living Dead’, and a Disney film which might be more Richard’s kind of thing.”

“Hmm, well, if I remember rightly, Richard doesn’t like horror films, do you, dear?” His mouth full with more pancake, he shook his head in response. “What’s the name of the Disney film?”

“‘The Little Mermaid.’” Schneider replied, with a grin. Richard stuck his middle finger up at him. “Not in front of Mutti, Richard – behave yourself!”

Frau Kruspe shook her head, smiling. “You two seem perfect for each other. Although our family isn’t religious in any way, following our chat last night, I’m of the belief that my little boy has his guardian angel sitting right next to him. I couldn’t wish for anyone better for him.”

“You give me too much credit, Mutti, but thank you. For my part, I’m really glad you were reunited with each other. Richard always has a smile on his face when he knows he’s going to visit you that day. Till too, coincidentally, but I suspect his reasons for that have more to do with his stomach than anything else! If you’ll excuse me, while Richard finishes his impersonation of a food disposal unit, I’ll get a quick wash ready to leave.”

Within an hour, both of them were waiting to leave. Schneider had phoned Till to get the lift promised while Richard was upstairs making the bed, and folding the blankets, leaving them at the end of the bed with Schneider’s borrowed pillow.

“I’m happy to have met you at last, Mutti. Richard’s lucky to have a mother like you. I’ll try not to leave it so long before visiting again.” He bent to give her an affectionate peck on the cheek, just as there was a knock at the door.

Richard let Till in, while Schneider pulled his jacket on. Frau Kruspe turned to her son.

“While I love your visits, I don’t ever want another one under the same set of circumstances as last night. I can tell that Christoph is a good man, and that he loves you dearly, so I couldn’t be happier for you both. Just remember to talk to each other when things get tough, it can save a lot of heartache in time. Now, give your old mum a hug before you go.”

Richard stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, giving his mother a light squeeze.

“Thank you, Mutti. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

She stood at the door, and waved them off down the path. As Richard shut the car door after getting in, Schneider spoke quietly to Till.

“Thank you for helping out last night, I really appreciate it. About the things you heard, and read in Richard’s letter…”

“Don’t worry, already forgotten. I won’t mention them to anyone, including Flake. I understand why you didn’t tell me about what happened to Richard when he was arrested, as for what you do at home, I’m hardly in a position to judge.”

Schneider nodded, relieved, and opened the passenger side door to get in the car, Till doing the same on the opposite side of the vehicle. With one final wave at Frau Kruspe, the three of them drove away.


	27. Eat You Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous smut klaxon...

Till declined the offer to come inside for a drink when he pulled the car up at the kerbside in front of Schneider and Richard’s house, knowing that the sooner they discussed their issues the sooner they could get on with the rest of their lives.

While he had promised not to say anything about the more intimate details of their relationship, or Richard’s horrific treatment at the hands of his jailers, he’d not agreed anything with regards the cheque, so felt he was at liberty to tell Flake, if no-one else, that Schneider was in fact a member of one of the richest families in the whole of what was until recently East Germany. He couldn’t wait to see Flake’s reaction to that little snippet of information!

Inside the house, Schneider fished his underwear out of his pocket and threw it in the washing machine ready for the next load, along with the clothes Richard had worn the previous night. Richard had dressed himself in some clothes from a drawer in his old bedroom, lucky that he’d only gained some muscle mass in the few years since he last wore them.

Richard stood just inside the doorway, looking unsure as to where he should go or what he should do in case he did the wrong thing, and made Schneider more angry. Schneider didn’t want to admit it, but he was having difficulty with the role of Dom, at least when it came to being strict with Richard, and punishment in particular, especially when his boyfriend looked as lost and forlorn as he did right at that moment.

“Come here, love.” He held out his arms, pulling Richard close in a hug when he complied. “I understand why you thought you were doing the right thing, for both of us, I’m just disappointed that you didn’t think enough of me to hear my opinion.” Richard sniffled softly against his chest. “The punishment I gave you wasn’t for that decision, it was for the rules you broke. Tell me which ones you think they are, so we can check that we agree on those.”

“I left the house at night without permission, or a safe friend …”

“That’s one…”

“I didn’t tell you where I was going…”

“Two…”

“I had a problem, but didn’t discuss it with you before acting on it…”

“Three… there’s at least one more…”

Richard’s forehead creased in a frown of concentration, as he tried to think what else he’d done wrong. When it became obvious he was struggling to come up with anything else, Schneider answered for him.

“You let a stranger into our house,” cutting Richard off before he could argue he continued, “ I appreciate you probably recognised my father from the photo on the mantelpiece, but he’s still a stranger as far as you’re concerned. You also apparently believed the things a stranger said about me, without waiting to hear my side of the story. That’s the thing that hurts me most of all. It broke my heart when I realised that.”

He’d managed to remain strong up to this point, not wanting to worry Frau Kruspe, but now they were both home and he’d made that admission out loud, his façade crumbled and he started sobbing quietly. Richard looked up, shocked to see Schneider this vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to…please don’t cry… I promise not to do it again…” he tried hugging Schneider tighter, unsure how he could make things better. When Schneider didn’t stop crying immediately, Richard started getting distressed himself, completely at a loss for ideas of how to help his boyfriend. He let go of Schneider and ran upstairs, returning a short while later with his bear.

“Teddy’s come to help us both feel better…”

Schneider looked up, taking in the genuine concern on Richard’s youthful face, partially obscured by the huge stuffed animal. Pulling himself together, he grabbed a tissue and blew his nose. He gave Richard a small smile.

“That’s good of Teddy. Why don’t the three of us go somewhere a bit more comfortable and cuddle each other better? Come on…”

He took hold of Richard’s free hand and led him into the lounge. He sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to him, inviting Richard to join him.

“Can we sit in your lap, Daddy?” Richard asked, shyly.

“Of course, baby boy, up you come.”

Richard settled himself sideways in Schneider’s lap, just as he had during the night in the chair, head nestled against Schneider’s neck, one arm holding the bear close. Schneider wrapped one arm around Richard to support his back, the other ended up full of stuffed toy. He turned his head and kissed the tip of Richard’s nose.

“I don’t what I would’ve done if I lost you, baby. I’ve never met anyone like you, you’re my whole world, and I would never ever want you to think that anything else is true, no matter what anyone else says. I love you with every fibre of my being.”

Richard snuffled again, eyes bright with unshed tears as he tilted his head to look up at Schneider’s face. “You really mean that?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

In an attempt to prove how much he meant what he said, he did something he’d never done for anyone else before, his voice wavering slightly as he wasn’t completely sure of the melody, he sang,

“I was made for loving you, baby  
You were made for loving me,  
And I can’t get enough of you baby,  
Can you get enough of me?”

Richard smiled, happily. “That’s my favourite Kiss song, Daddy.”

“I know it is, baby, and if we were ever allowed to get married that would be the song for our first dance.”

“That sounds like a nice dream.”

“Dreams can come true. You’re proof of that!”

Richard tried to snuggle closer, but the stuffed toy was in the way. Schneider smiled. “I think Teddy has done a great job of making us both feel better, how about we sit him down next to us and we can have a proper cuddle?”

With the stuffed toy placed to one side, the pair of them were able to wrap their arms around each other. Both emotionally drained, they were soon asleep where they sat. It wasn’t until the phone rang around lunchtime that they woke up again.

“Get up, baby, I need to answer the phone.”

Richard didn’t so much sit up as just slide his legs to one side off Christoph, allowing the taller man to rise from the sofa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Schneider, just wanted to check how things are going. You both okay?”

“So far, so good I think. We’ve got a lot to work through, it’s going to take some time. At some point I’m going to have to confront my father about his interfering, I can’t let him get away with it – something really bad could’ve happened to Richard.”

“Well, let us know if there’s anything we can do to help, that includes having Richard stop over for a night or two if you need space for a bit. I spoke to Paul earlier to let him and Ollie know that we found him, they offered their assistance too.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it, but as far as Richard is concerned, it might be better if everyone acts as though yesterday never happened. He won’t like feeling as though his every action is being scrutinised. If I think of anything that might help, I’ll call.”

“Fair enough. Remember we’re just a phone call away. See you soon.”

“Yeah, will do. Bye.”

Schneider placed the receiver back on the hook, and returned to the lounge. Richard had hugged the bear to himself, trying to stay warm without Schneider’s body next to him.

“Sometimes, I think you love that bear more than you do me.” He commented, smiling.

“That’s not true! I definitely love you at least twice as much.” Richard protested.

“Twice as much, huh?”

“At least as, yes…”

“I see…well, can your bear do this…” he kissed Richard on the lips, “or this…” moving to nuzzle Richard’s neck, one of his weak spots, “or this?” Palming him through his jeans, feeling Richard start to harden at his touches.

Richard’s breath had quickened, arousal lending colour to his pale cheeks. “No…” he whispered, hoarsely.

“Shall we see what else I can do that bear can’t?”

Nodding, Richard took Schneider’s outstretched hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Schneider led Richard up the stairs to their bedroom, and started to undress him, hands running over the flawless skin as it was gradually exposed, in silent adoration. Richard looked up at him expectantly, sitting naked on the edge of the bed, watching his boyfriend strip off his own clothes, aware that he’d only had part of his punishment and wondering if he was about to receive the next instalment despite how Schneider had acted downstairs.

“Look at your pretty cock, standing to attention ready for me! Tell me, baby boy, did you jerk yourself off in the shower earlier?”

“No daddy, I was a good boy and obeyed you, I swear!”

Schneider searched Richard’s face for the telltale micro-expressions, that he’d been trained to spot during his policing career, that would indicate a lie and finding none. Satisfied, he nodded and knelt down in front of Richard, gently parting the younger man’s legs to allow him to get closer.

“I believe you, sweetheart, and I’m going to reward you. Just relax, baby.”

He bent his head down, arms resting either side of Richard’s legs to provide a stable base, and started licking and gently sucking at the end of Richard’s cock, humming around it and sending what felt to Richard like tendrils of lightning shooting through his nerve endings to light a fire in his belly. He threw his head back, moaning and cursing as Schneider took his entire length into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to increase the amount of contact.

Richard’s body started to tremble as he tried to hold his climax back just a little bit longer. Noticing, Schneider released Richard’s cock in order to look up at him.

“It’s okay, baby, this is a reward, you can come whenever you want, let daddy taste you.”

He resumed sucking at Richard, moving one hand to cup the younger man’s balls, applying gentle pressure, squeezing them until Richard came, shooting his load down Schneider’s throat. Richard fell back against the bed, eyes closed, body shuddering as his orgasm dissipated.

“Your reward’s not over yet, baby…” Schneider said, grabbing the lube from the nightstand.

He quickly daubed his own member with a thin coat of the viscous fluid, then started fingering Richard, finding that he was still partially stretched from the fucking he’d given him earlier. Pushing Richard’s legs back so that his feet were in line with the edge of the bed, Schneider pressed against him, Richard moaning as his boyfriend penetrated him for the second time that day. Now that Richard had reached orgasm, Schneider knew he could take as much time as he wanted to make love to him, so that the younger man knew how much he wanted him.

“I’m going to kiss every inch of your beautiful body, baby boy. You’re so gorgeous I could eat you alive.”

Richard was only capable of uttering moans and cute animalistic sounds in response, drowning under waves of ecstasy as Schneider thrust into him mercilessly.


	28. Confrontations

“Doomie?”

“Yes, love?”

They were laid up in bed enjoying the afterglow, arms and legs still entwined. Schneider had come to realise, over the last month or so, that whenever Richard called him by his nickname instead of ‘Daddy’ it was usually because he had something he deemed important to ask or say. The other instances were when he was feeling more confident in himself and his surroundings.

“Do you think I’ll ever be better again?”

“Better in what way?”

“I know that I’m not like most grownups, that my brain works differently - that’s what that lady says who you take me to see says – but I want to be normal, I don’t want to be like this forever.”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t ever wish yourself to be normal! You’re perfect just the way you are. But in answer to your question, you’ve already made great progress. You’ve worked hard at getting fit and healthy, you’ve got a job on your own merit, and from the odd chat I’ve had with the shop owners they’re very happy with your work. You’ve made new friends, not to mention you’ve managed to get yourself a hot boyfriend… you’ve achieved a lot in just a few short months. I know that sometimes things overwhelm you, and your instinct is to hide away from those situations. That’s perfectly understandable, it will take time, but I believe that with help you will be better able to cope with those situations.”

“Don’t you think you’ll grow tired of helping me? I mean, you have your job, and then you come home and have me to look after…”

Schneider sat up and turned to regard Richard properly. He was chewing on his lower lip again, anxiety obviously creeping up on him again. 

“Does this just stem from what my father said yesterday, or have you been thinking about this beforehand?”

“I’ve always thought that I’m not good enough for you, that I don’t deserve you. I’ve done so many bad things I know I’ll go to hell when I die. Every time I feel happy, I feel guilty straight afterwards.”

“For starters, the ‘bad things’ as you call them that you did, you did in order to survive and because other people forced you to do them. Your heart is so pure and innocent that you’ll be made into an angel when you get to heaven, of that I’m certain. It’s me that doesn’t deserve a beautiful soul like you, not the other way round. You also help to look after me – all those delicious meals you make for us, especially when I’ve been on a night shift, I look forward to those all through my duty. You also help around the house, you don’t wait to be asked if you see something that needs doing, you just get on and sort it. 

As for growing tired of you, and the things my father said about me… I was going to wait until Christmas, but…” he leant over to his nightstand and opened the small drawer. He removed two small items and closed the drawer back up. Righting himself on the bed, he held one of the items between thumb and forefinger and continued, “I bought these a while ago to show you how much I love and care for you, and to let you know I don’t want to be with anyone else… Richard Zven Kruspe, will you wear this ring as a sign of my commitment to you?”

Richard was momentarily speechless, looking at the ring in stunned silence.

“I was kinda hoping for an answer, babe…”

“I…I…yes! I’d love to wear it!”

Schneider slipped the silver band onto Richard’s ring finger, then opened his palm to show a matching ring.

“Do you want to ask me the same question?”

Richard picked up the other ring and fixed his gaze on his lover. “Christoph Doom Schneider, will you be committed…”

“Quite possibly!” Schneider snorted, amused. “But yes, I will wear that ring as a sign of my commitment to you.”

He held out his hand, with fingers outstretched, so that Richard could put the ring on him. They sealed their agreement with a deep kiss.

*

While Richard was out at work the following morning, as he had a few hours before starting his evening shift, Schneider drove out to the family estate to confront his father. The butler let him in to the lobby where he asked him to wait while he announced his presence. He was shown into the study a few minutes later.

He strode in and flung the pieces of the torn up cheque onto his father’s mahogany desk.

“You’ll be happy to know that Richard left me not long after your visit, but not before tearing up your cheque. He had absolutely no idea about my family history, and wasn’t with me for whatever he could get out of me. What you don’t know about Richard is that he’s overcome a lot of terrible situations in the last few years, but is still vulnerable. He left in the cold and dark with just the things he had when I met him, he was lucky he wasn’t attacked or worse. You’re lucky he wasn’t either, as if any harm had come to him I would have killed you myself! Fortunately, I managed to find him and bring him home, and we have reaffirmed our commitment to each other. I’ve told you before, I don’t want to take over the family estate – it would be better in my sister’s hands, not to mention she wants the opportunity – my career is not a fad, I genuinely want to help people and feel I can do more on the front line, and lastly, my being gay isn’t just a phase I’m going through, you forced me into dating those girls who, by the way, were definitely gold diggers, and okay – I admit that my previous boyfriend you managed to buy off was a mistake, but Richard most definitely is not. You have no right to interfere in my life, and you’re not welcome at my house.”

Not waiting to hear his father’s response, Schneider spun on his heel and left as quickly as he had arrived, the butler only just managing to open the heavy oak door before Schneider reached it. He jumped into his car and sped off down the long drive, knowing that the guard at the gatehouse would have been contacted by the butler to make sure that the exit was clear, as Schneider was in the right mood to drive through closed gates, destroying them and possibly the car too in his fury.

Back on the autobahn, he felt himself calming down, feeling like a weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. By the time he pulled up at home, needing to change into his uniform before heading off to work, he felt almost happy. He looked forward to the end of the shift so he could come home and tell Richard what he’d done, further proving his commitment to their relationship and his own lack of desire for the family fortune. Now that he’d given Richard the commitment ring, he had to think of something else for his Christmas present. He shook his head with a rueful smile, he never seemed to be able to give Richard his gifts at the original times planned, something always seemed to happen to prompt him to hand them over early. Perhaps it was down to his own feelings of insecurity, and the gifts were his way of making sure Richard would stay with him. Maybe he should ask the therapist about her thoughts on the matter.

*

A few days later, Richard had the afternoon off work and, with Schneider’s permission, had gone to see Paul at the musical instruments shop he worked at. Schneider had suggested he might want to try out different effects pedals and amplifiers, and should let him know which ones he preferred.

He’d not been in the shop long before a limousine pulled up outside unnoticed by Richard, sitting on a chair, his back to the window, as he strummed on one of the guitars putting one of the amps through its paces.

“Hey, Reesh, what did you say Schneider’s father looked like?”

“You’ve seen his photo on our mantelpiece, haven’t you? Like that, just more grey hairs and a mean expression. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering if that’s him just stepping out of that limo outside…”

“What?”

Richard stood up quickly and whirled around to look out the window, the blood draining from his face when he realised it was Herr Schneider making his way to the shop door, the car driven a short distance away to a parking zone on the street, in order to avoid getting ticketed. He set the guitar down on a stand, not wanting to drop it and damage it.

“What do you think he wants?”

“I don’t know, Doomie said he’d gone to see him and shouted at him, telling him to leave us alone. He’s not going to be happy at all knowing he’s come here.”

“I’ll give him a moment, and if it becomes obvious that he’s not here to buy anything I’ll phone the station and ask for Schneider, okay?”

“Thanks Paulchen.” Richard said, his attention on the opening door, chewing his lip nervously.

“There you are, young man, you took some tracking down today. I’ve been to my son’s home, and your place of work, where they suggested I might try looking for you here. I spent a few minutes talking with the proprietors about you, I seem to have underestimated you…”

“Why would you do that? You have no right to poke your nose in my business! Schneider said he’d been to see you and banned you from our house…” Richard replied, indignantly.

Herr Schneider Senior held up his hands in a placating gesture, trying to forestall another vitriolic tirade aimed at himself. Paul, who had disappeared into the back office to phone Schneider, returned to stand at Richard’s side, a defiant look on his face.

“If you’re not here to buy anything, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave and stop harassing my friend.”

“Your loyalty is admirable, young man, I assure you I’m not hear to ‘harass’ your friend, as you put it. But I did want to have a quiet chat with him, man to man, in private.”

“Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of Paul. I’m not going anywhere with you…”

Before any of them could continue the conversation, the door was thrown open again, banging against the wall. A group of masked men entered the shop, all of them shouting commands at once, making it difficult for the three of them to know which order to follow first. It became obvious that they wanted the money from the till, which Paul handed over with shaking hands before getting down on the floor, hands clasped behind his head as instructed.

“We dropped lucky when we saw this rich old fart getting out of the car to come here, his visit determined which shop we would turn over, so be sure to thank him.!”

“Doesn’t look like the rich old sod hasn’t spent any money yet, judging from what was in the till, looks like we’ll have to shake him down…”

One of the robbers pointed a gun at Herr Schneider. “You heard him, turn out your pockets… give us your wallet, that fancy watch you’re wearing and whatever valuable jewellery you have on you as well!”

Schneider’s father complied, a dark look on his face. “You’ll regret doing this, mark my words…”

“Shut up, old man!” the robber nearest Herr Schneider said, knocking him on the head with the butt of his gun.

“Hey – you don’t need to do that! He was doing what you said!” Richard said, taking a couple of challenging steps towards the man, only to find the man nearest himself landing a couple of blows to his own stomach, making Richard double over in pain.

“Let’s go, I doubt we’ll get much more from this lot, let’s move on to our next target.”

The robbers ran out of the shop, the last one pointing his gun so that the three men inside wouldn’t think of moving. Almost as an afterthought he grabbed one of the guitars on his way out, before turning tail and running to the waiting getaway car outside. The vehicle screeched away out of sight, letting the three men inside know it was safe to move.

Paul grabbed the phone on the counter to call the police, not needing privacy for this conversation. The chauffeur, realising what had just transpired, ran towards the shop to check on his employer. Herr Schneider turned to face Richard.

“What you did was incredibly brave but incredibly stupid in equal measure. Why would you try defending me?”

“I never had the opportunity to reconcile things with my natural father, but you’re still alive, and while you and Schneider don’t see eye to eye, you still have the opportunity to make peace with each other, I wanted to make sure Schneider got the chance before it’s too late. It was worth it being punched if you get to make up.”

Richard was still bent over, the pain in his stomach becoming a burning sensation over a larger area. Paul put the phone down.

“The cops are on the way, they should be here any minute.”

“Is Master Richard alright?” the chauffeur asked, concerned at how pale the young man had become.

“Reesh? Richard?”

“I don’t feel so good, Paulie…”

His hand was pressed against his stomach, which Paul only now realised had blood trickling from between them. He just made it to Richard’s side as his friend collapsed. Paul’s worried face looked up at Herr Schneider and the chauffeur.

“Quick, phone for an ambulance – Richard wasn’t punched, he was stabbed!”


	29. Chapter 29

Herr Schneider removed his thick wool coat and folded it up, placing it under Richard’s head to act as a pillow. The chauffeur meanwhile was on the shop’s phone, speaking to the emergency services operator. Paul held Richard’s free hand, reassuring his friend that an ambulance was on its way. 

Schneider’s father, who had disappeared from view momentarily, returned with a clean towel from the shop’s kitchen area.

“Here – press this down over the wounds, applying as much pressure as you can, it should help stem the flow of blood.”

Paul did as instructed, gently lifting Richard’s hand to one side so that he could press the towel to his friend’s stomach, Richard groaning from the pain that was becoming more apparent. Having been called by Paul several minutes previously, Schneider arrived at the shop. He pulled up short when he saw the tableau playing out in front of him. He looked from his father to Paul kneeling on the floor, pressing a towel down on Richard’s midriff. As he knelt down next to his wounded boyfriend, he addressed his father angrily.

“What the fuck? What did you do, dad?”

Paul spoke up in Herr Schneider’s defence. “Your father didn’t do this, Christoph. He’d just been speaking to Richard when a group of armed robbers turned up. One of them hit your dad on the head with their gun, and when Richard moved to defend him they stabbed him.”

Only now did Schneider realise that his father had a little trail of blood himself, from a cut on his head. A large lump was also forming underneath the contusion. The chauffeur was busy fussing around Herr Schneider, telling him he should sit down as it was possible he’d got a concussion. Schneider returned his attention to Richard.

“I’m sorry, baby, I should’ve been faster, I should’ve been here to protect you.” He ran his fingers through Richard’s hair, in a manner which he knew helped calm the young man. “Why would you do a daft thing like helping my father, especially after everything he’s done?”

“So the two of you have the chance to settle your differences while you still can…” Richard said, groaning again as another spike of pain stabbed him, echoing the original injuries, his face contorting as he gritted his teeth.

Schneider had taken over from Paul, applying pressure with one hand to the towel which was turning pink from all the blood it was soaking up, his other hand holding Richard’s.

“Hold on, baby, the ambulance will be here soon…”

“Don’t let me die, Daddy, I don’t want to be an angel…I want to stay here with you!” He his plaintive words were little more than a whisper now, his strength starting to leave him as a result of the blood loss.

“Don’t you dare give up, baby boy, remember - you’re the lionheart! You’re stronger than a couple of paper cuts! Stay with me, Richard…”

The police and ambulance both turned up, sirens wailing and lights flashing heralding their arrival. Quickly assessing the scene, they transferred Richard to a stretcher and got him in the ambulance straight away, they were going to prevent Schneider from joining him until Schneider showed his police ID. Once Richard was made comfortable, they turned to help Herr Schneider up onto the other stretcher, deciding it would be better to check for concussion and any other injury as yet unnoticed.

They secured the doors quickly, pausing only to tell Paul and the chauffeur which hospital they would be taking their patients to, before driving off at speed in the same manner that they arrived. While Paul and the other man would have liked nothing more than to lock up the shop and follow the ambulance in the limousine, they were kept behind by the police to give their witness statements, and for Paul to file a victim’s statement for the robbery. Another police car had been dispatched to the hospital in order to get statements from the injured men, just as soon as they were able to answer questions.

After taking their statements, and ascertaining that the robbers hadn’t directly touched anything, apart from the one who had grabbed the guitar on the way out, they decided that there wouldn’t be much point getting forensics out to dust for prints, as only the robbers’ shoes had touched any remaining surface, and they would be obscured by those of the emergency services responding to the call. They said they would be in touch with any developments, and that Paul and the other man should contact them with anything else they think of that could aid their enquiries.

The chauffeur offered to take Paul to the hospital, but first he needed to phone Frau Schneider to let her know what had happened to her husband, which he could do from the car phone. Paul phoned Ollie to let him know where he was going so he wouldn’t worry, and asked him to phone Till, who would know how to reach Richard’s mum.

Locking the shop behind him, and pulling down the shutters, Paul crossed to where the limousine was parked. Taking the passenger seat up front, he tried not to show how excited he was at riding in such an expensive vehicle, despite the seriousness of the situation that had brought it about. As the driver eased out into the traffic, they could see police officers conducting enquires on both sides of the road, hoping that they would find someone who had got a good look at either the getaway vehicle or the robbers.

*

Richard was still undergoing surgery when the two of them arrived. They were shown to the waiting room where Schneider was pacing up and down anxiously, his father – who had needed a couple of stitches for the blow to his head – was sitting down, trying to calm his son down. After checking his employer’s condition, the chauffeur went in search of a pay phone in order to update Frau Schneider on her husband’s condition and their approximate time of return.

Paul gave Schneider a big hug, trying to reassure him, even though he was equally worried. Over the course of the next hour their three other friends arrived – first Flake and Ollie, followed soon after by Till, who had picked up Frau Kruspe on his way to the hospital.

Time seemed to drag, with other visitors coming and going, and various medical staff passing by. Every time someone paused outside the waiting room door the group would tense up, at the same time wanting and not wanting news depending on what it would be. Eventually, one of the nurses who had been part of the team taking Richard into the operating theatre arrived.

“Are there any family members of Richard Kruspe here?”

Till lent a steadying arm to Frau Kruspe, as she walked towards the nurse. Partway across the room she turned to Schneider. “Come along, Christoph – you’re family too…”

Schneider smiled gratefully and approached the nurse, taking a position on the other side of Richard’s mother. Till started to back off, but Frau Kruspe tightened her hold on his arm, keeping him in place. The nurse raised her eyebrows but sensed that arguing the family only rule with this particular woman would be a bad idea.

“You’re Richard’s mother?”

“Yes, how’s my boy?”

“When he arrived, he had two fairly deep knife wounds to his abdomen, and had lost a significant amount of blood. The surgeons worked on him for a couple of hours, finding the source of the blood loss and closing the affected arteries. They cleaned the wounds out and stitched them closed. We had to give him a blood transfusion to replace the pints lost using the blood Herr Schneider here donated, which seems to have taken well, there are no indications of rejection at this point. His vital signs have returned to stable levels and he’s currently in the recovery room. We’ve administered non-opioid pain killers, based on his recent medical records we thought that the best approach, and he’s receiving oxygen via a mask.

We’ll take you through to see him once we can work out which ward to move him to, which brings me to the question I hate asking at a time like this. Are you able to afford a paid bed, or should we put him in the queue for one of the free beds?”

A deep voice spoke up from behind them. “Please put Herr Kruspe in a single private room, I am happy to cover all the medical bills incurred.”

The nurse looked over to Schneider Sr. and nodded. “I’ll bring the forms in a moment, and once they’ve been verified I’ll arrange Herr Kruspe’s transfer. If you’ll excuse me…”

With that, the nurse exited the waiting room. Schneider turned to his father.

“You needn’t worry about the bills. I’ve got sufficient to cover it. You’ve done enough already.”

“You haven’t asked why I was in the shop in the first place. I’d been looking for Richard to apologise for the way I handled things the last time we met, I didn’t get the chance to tell him as that’s when the robbers showed up.”

“Well, that’s just convenient isn’t it? You could tell me anything right now as Richard’s not available to say any different…”

“Your friend here heard our conversation, ask him!” He gestured at Paul, who suddenly felt like he wanted to be anywhere but in the middle of the argument getting underway.

Richard’s mother was listening to their exchange with growing interest, and came to a realisation quickly.

“You’re Christoph’s father?”

Herr Schneider nodded, standing up to greet her properly. Before he was fully out of his seat Frau Kruspe had taken the few steps across the room to stand in front of him, whereupon she slapped him hard across the face, the slap echoing in the room.

“That’s for thinking you could buy Richard off, and for putting him in danger. Shame on you!”

There was stunned silence from everyone else in the room for a few moments. Herr Schneider straightened his back and looked Frau Kruspe in the face. Till and Schneider both moved to either side of her, an unspoken warning to Schneider’s father to tread carefully.

“In retrospect, I deserved that. I misjudged your son and his intentions towards Christoph here. As you might imagine, with our family’s status, we attract more than a few…what’s the word…gold diggers? I decided to use a test to try and weed them out, by offering money for them to leave. Not just with Christoph here, but his sister too. Now she’s happily married after a few heartbreaks. Your son is the first of Christoph’s love interests to stand up to me and destroy the cheque. Of course, I’ve only just heard about the latter, hence my searching him out today to apologise and to explain the reasons for my actions. I’m sorry that I inadvertently put him in harm’s way – I had no intention to see him hurt in any way. Please – let me start making amends by taking care of the medical bills.”

Schneider looked at Frau Kruspe, who nodded.

“Fine, but don’t think you’re forgiven. I’m not going to forget this…ever.”

“I understand, but please, don’t punish your mother too by staying away – she misses you, and would like you to visit soon. She was terribly upset that you didn’t stay long enough to see her when you dropped in.”

“Oh, Christoph – Do go and see your mother, for me if not for yourself. Promise me you will.” Frau Kruspe patted him on the arm for emphasis.

“For you, Mutti, I promise I will.”

Herr Schneider raised an eyebrow in surprise at the affectation, but wisely chose not to comment. The nurse returned bearing a clipboard with several sheets of paper, filled with legal jargon regarding the care and treatment of patients, the hospital’s responsibilities and liabilities waivers, and of course, the details of bill payments. She handed it over to Herr Schneider and began to explain each section.

“I’ll be paying for everything, but for all other issues, whatever Herr Kruspe can’t answer for himself, you should speak to his mother here.”

“Of course. Frau Kruspe, if you’d like to follow me, I can take you to see Richard now.”

“Can I bring Christoph with me?”

“Yes, but no one else yet. He’s only just coming round, and too many visitors might cause confusion or distress.”

She turned and led them from the waiting room, and down several corridors, pointing out the coloured lines along the floor marking the way between the waiting room and the wards. The nurse opened the door on one side of a corridor, the other side filled with several multiple patient bays separated by gender. The door opened into a room, with subdued lighting, and curtains drawn shut. In the centre of one wall was a bed, with beeping monitors on one side, and an oxygen tank on the other, its pipe leading to the mask currently covering Richard’s mouth and nose.


	30. Chapter 30

The two of them approached the bed quietly, not wanting to wake Richard if he was sleeping. Behind them, the nurse shut the door to give them complete privacy. Holding back the urge to run to Richard’s side, Schneider held back so that Frau Kruspe could get to her son before him.

Smiling sadly, she brushed stray hairs away from his eyes, and clasped one of his hands in her own, whispering softly, “My dear sweet baby boy, look what they’ve done to you! I’ve only just got you back, and now this…”

Schneider put a comforting arm around her, and reached into a pocket for a handkerchief to give her should she need it. She smiled gratefully at him.

“Mutti? Daddy?” Richard’s eyes were struggling to stay open, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

“I’m here sweetheart, but it’s Christoph who’s here with me, not your daddy…” she turned to Schneider, “…it’s probably the anaesthetic, confusing him like the nurse said it might…”

Schneider wasn’t about to contradict her when she was obviously trying to make him feel better about being mistaken for Richard’s father. “I’m sure that’s it, yes…”

“How are you feeling, love?” Frau Kruspe had turned back to Richard, carefully removing the mask so he could be heard more easily.

“Where am I, Mutti? I don’t recognise this place!”

“You’re in hospital, dear. You were hurt during the robbery at your friend Paul’s shop, don’t you remember?”

“Robbery? Is Paul okay? Is he hurt too?”

Schneider had moved to the other side of the bed, so that he could get closer to his boyfriend.

“Paul’s alright, baby, he’s in the waiting room with the others, we’ve all been terribly worried about you. The doctors seem to have done a good job at patching you up, though, you’ll be back home in no time, good as new.”

“Can’t I come home now? I don’t want to stay here, it feels strange…”

Frau Kruspe tutted. “You’ve only just come out of surgery, so they’ll want to keep you in for observation for tonight at the very least. I’m sure you’ll be able to cope with being here for a little while, you’ve survived far worse. You’re such a brave boy!”

She kissed his forehead. “Now, all your friends are wanting to see you, and as I assume Christoph will be wanting to stay the night here, perhaps he can bring two of them here while I wait with you, and then he can take me back to the waiting room. Once your friends have seen you, Till can take me home while you and your boyfriend get to spend some time together…”

Schneider had wanted to spend a bit longer with Richard, but he could see Frau Kruspe’s reasoning. Getting the friends’ visits out of the way quickly would allow him to get Richard all to himself sooner, hopefully before Richard became too tired to talk. He pressed a kiss to Richard’s lips.

“I’ll be back soon, baby. Be good while I’m gone, okay?”

Richard nodded, and watched him leave the room.

“You’ve got yourself a wonderful man there, sweetheart. It’s clear how much he loves you. And I know that he’s a policeman and has a tough exterior, but he needs looking after too, so you take care of him, you hear?”

“Yes, Mutti, I will. We look after each other.”

“Good boy. Now, while we wait for your friends, let me tell you what your brother and sister have been up to…”

*

In the end, Richard was kept in hospital for just under a week, the surgeons wanting to make sure that the internal wounds wouldn’t re-open and cause haemorrhaging. The external stitches were helping heal the lacerations quickly and neatly.

Schneider had to smile when he realised that a few of the nurses seemed to be arguing over who got to change Richard’s dressings, even with the two knife wounds marring the younger man’s skin, his abdomen and chest were perfectly toned, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by the nursing staff. Richard appeared oblivious to their attentions, with eyes only for his boyfriend.

Driving Richard home from the hospital, Schneider felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The last week had been stressful, worrying about Richard’s recovery, trying to make sure someone was always with Richard when he had to go home for sleep, not to mention putting in an appearance at work. His superior officers had kept him off the robbery and assault case, being too close to the victims, but his colleagues kept him up to date with developments, so he knew that a couple of arrests had been made.

Over his few years of service he’d accrued a significant number of vacation days, but had only taken a few of them - for Richard’s birthday - so the captain of his division suggested he might want to use some of the days owed him once Richard was home, just while the younger man got back on his feet. Schneider gratefully took advantage of the suggestion, not wanting to let Richard out of his sight for the foreseeable future.

True to his word, Schneider’s father paid all the hospital bills, and surprised his son by inviting Richard and himself to stay at the family estate over Christmas. Richard was prepared to turn him down, insisting that he wanted to spend his first Christmas back home with his family and friends. Determined to make amends with the young man who’d selflessly tried protecting him from the robbers, despite their recent history, Schneider Sr. extended the offer to include them too.

Richard’s siblings chose to continue with their original plans, celebrating with their in-laws, not having met Schneider’s parents previously, but Mutti accepted the invitation graciously, as did their friends who were more than just a little curious about their friend’s previously secret family history. Richard and Schneider made their own way to the estate, their friends following in their own cars behind them, but Herr Schneider sent the limousine to pick up Richard’s mother. There was more than one pair of curtains twitching in the neighbourhood when the long black sedan pulled up outside her house, especially when the chauffeur held a door open for Frau Kruspe to step inside, insisting on taking care of her overnight case for her.

By the time the car pulled up outside the Manor House, Frau Kruspe had managed to extract the chauffeur’s name, marital status and family background, and had apologised profusely that he’d been made to work over Christmas, ferrying her to and fro, as she saw it.

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am.”

“But you should be with your family at Christmas!”

“Once I’ve delivered you safely, I will probably be dismissed for the next couple of days, giving me plenty of time with my family. Here we are ma’am. Just give me a moment to get the door for you…”

Herr Schneider had made his way out to the bottom of the steps leading to the front entrance. He offered Frau Kruspe his arm to escort her up the stone steps, icy in the frigid air despite repeated attempts to keep them clear, the chauffeur following in their wake with the case.

“Our sons are inside, along with their friends, and the rest of my family. Allow me to introduce you to my wife…”

Schneider’s mother took Frau Kruspe under her wing, showing her to the room they’d set aside for her stay, then guiding her down to the lounge where everyone else was gathered in advance of the main meal.

The large sitting room boasted a huge natural spruce Christmas tree festooned with hundreds of twinkling lights, tinsel garlands, and dozens of baubles of varying sizes, shapes, and colours. Presents were piled under the tree, all neatly wrapped with bows and tags. Either side of an open log fire were comfortable sofas, with a third facing the fire, completing the square. There were armchairs drawn close to the sofas to cater for the number of guests present, while close to the large television a group of beanbags provided seating for the children – Schneider’s nephews and niece.

The six friends were deep in conversation, Schneider’s friends grilling his sister for juicy tidbits of information about his childhood, the more embarrassing the better. The two mothers found seats amongst them, accepting a glass of sherry each offered by the butler, and were soon happily embarrassing their respective sons with stories from when the boys were younger. Richard and Schneider were relieved when it was announced that dinner was served, and everyone migrated to the dining room.

Once dinner was over, they returned to the sitting room, where the adults resumed their previous conversation, and the children to watching cartoons. Schneider’s niece, Giselle wandered over to Richard and tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. Richard smiled at her.

“Hello! What do you want?”

“Are you my uncle’s girlfriend?”

That brought a few laughs from the other adults, but Richard didn’t laugh and answered the young girl sincerely.

“I’m like a girlfriend, except that I’m a boy.”

Giselle seemed to consider his answer and then nodded. “You have pretty eyes. I like you.”

“Thank you. You’ve got a cute button nose. I like you too.”

Having decided that she approved of Richard, she climbed up into his lap, laid her head against him, and promptly fell asleep.

“I’m sorry, Richard, I’ll take her up to bed…”

Richard waved Schneider’s sister back to her seat. “It’s fine, I really don’t mind, she can stay until her bedtime if she wants.”

Glad that she had one less child to keep an eye on, she turned back to her glass of wine and the current topic of conversation. 

*

Everyone had retired for the night, Frau Kruspe had been given Schneider’s old bedroom, on the same wing of the house as the rest of his family, meanwhile the six friends had been given rooms on the wing at the other side of the manor house. Each room had an en-suite bathroom, and had traditional furnishings, including four-poster beds, which set certain minds racing about possible night-time activities.

“I’m pretty sure that Father insisted we should be put in rooms as far away as possible, so there would be no chance of him hearing any of us having sex. He may have accepted our relationship, but only so far as he doesn’t have be reminded of it in any way.”

Richard crawled over the mattress from his side of the bed, and slipped his arms around his lover, clasping his hands together in front of Schneider’s bare chest. He kissed his boyfriend on the shoulder.

“Give him time, Doomie, he’s trying to put things right, I’m sure it’s difficult for him to change his way of thinking, it won’t happen overnight.”

“I know, love. I can’t help but be sceptical where he’s concerned. I’m hoping with my nephews and niece being here that he’ll keep his criticism to a minimum. Fortunately mum’s a lot more open-minded. She seemed very taken with you, as did Giselle, you were great with her!”

“She’s a delight! I like kids, I wouldn’t have minded being a dad, had things turned out differently.”

His smile was bittersweet, and Schneider could hear the sadness in his voice, behind him. He gently extracted himself from Richard’s arms, and shifted position on the bed so that he could face his boyfriend.

“I know we’ve been together less than a year, so it’s still maybe too early to be making any decisions as yet, but we could always think about adoption. I think you’d be a wonderful parent. In the meantime, we can have lots of fun practicing the traditional method of getting a baby…” he said, with a grin, pushing Richard onto his back.


	31. Epilogue

“Can we have some more ice cream, please?”

“Didn’t you already ask Daddy that question?”

“Um, yes, but…”

“What was his answer?”

“He said no.” 

Richard rolled his eyes. Now he knew what it must have been like for Schneider when Richard first moved in years ago and behaved like a spoiled brat. Now it was his turn to be the ‘grown up’, only he had two children to deal with, not one.

“So you thought that I’d give you a different answer, did you?”

The two children looked at each other before turning back to their Papa and nodding in response.

“Well, I’ve got news for you, sweethearts, even I have to do what Daddy says. So I’m afraid the answer is still ‘no’. Now, go upstairs and brush your teeth. We’ll be leaving to see your uncles in thirty minutes, so scoot!”

The twins protested loudly, but made their way upstairs to the bathroom, stomping their feet every step of the way. Sighing quietly, Richard walked down the hall into the kitchen where Schneider was clearing away the dinner pots.

“Sounds like the kids were giving you some grief just now. What was up with them this time?”

“Oh, they were just trying to divide and conquer. They thought they might get some more ice cream by asking me, seeing how you’d told them ‘no’.”

“Scheming little monkeys! Come here, love, you look like you could use a hug.”

Richard allowed Schneider to draw him into his embrace, resting his head on his fiancés shoulder, eyes closed, enjoying the moment. Schneider gently rubbed circles on Richard’s back, soothingly.

“You’re all tense, baby boy, I think I’ll give you a massage when we get back and put the kids to bed.”

“You’ve not called me that in a while. I miss it.”

Schneider drew back slightly, moving one hand to tilt Richard’s face up to look at him directly.

“You’ll always be my baby boy, no matter how old, grey, and fat we become. I guess we stopped doing a lot of things after the twins were born, and I feel guilty that you’ve ended up being the one putting your career on hold while they grow up. I’ll have to think of ways to make it up to you.”

“I can think of a few things you could do, but not until those little monsters are asleep!”

Schneider laughed softly. “I’m sure you can, too. You don’t regret having the twins, do you?” he asked, worriedly.

“Of course not! Having the kids has made our little family complete. I’ll never be able to thank our sisters enough for donating their eggs and my sister being a surrogate for us, too. And now the twins are getting older, their personalities are definitely beginning to show.”

“You’re not kidding! Amelie is quite the little diva, she definitely got her genes from you.”

“Well, Niklas takes after you, he’s a bossy boots!”

Schneider raised an eyebrow, amused. “Are you saying I’m bossy?”

“Of course you are…Master… and you’re very good at punishment…” Richard added with a grin.

Schneider smirked and gave Richard’s backside a sharp slap. “Enough of that, we’ve got places to be. Let’s round up the offspring and be on our way. We can’t afford any distractions right now. Maybe we can ask the others if they wouldn’t mind looking after the kids for a few days, so we can get away by ourselves for a bit. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea! It wouldn’t hurt to ask…”

They leaned into each other for a languid kiss, arms snaking around each other’s waists.

“Ewww! Dads! Gross!”

The two men broke off their kiss. “We should definitely ask them about babysitting.” Richard said, in ernest.

“Trust me, I’ll find a way to make it happen. Till and Flake, or Paul and Ollie?”

“Who deserves a few days of torture the most?”

“Good question! Right kids, shoes on, coats on, at the double! Last one to the car has to clean their room before bedtime!”

Richard snorted as the kids practically fell over each other in their haste to get ready and out the door.

“I’m glad that doesn’t include me, I can never get ready quickly.”

“Don’t I know it, love! Don’t worry, I’ll think of a suitable punishment for you for being tardy!”

Richard smiled, and having put his jacket on, checked his reflection in the hall mirror. Schneider walked towards him as he was pulling his own jacket on. As he grabbed the car keys from the hall table he gave Richard a peck on the cheek.

“You don’t need to look in that mirror, you know – you grow more beautiful with every passing day.”


End file.
